A Price Paid In Blood
by Candyland
Summary: [COMPLETE] WARNING: VERY DARK! Gohan has a very dangerous secret. Is there anyone who can help him get everything straightened out? Very dark and depressing.
1. Gohan's Secret

AN: Okay, this is my first attempt at a really really dark fic. Everyone knows that Gohan is a really tormentable character, and this is a 'tormented Gohan' story. It's very dark and very depressing, so read it at your own discretion. As usual, I don't own Dragonball Z.

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Chapter One—Gohan's Secret

He stared in the mirror, and inwardly winced at what he saw.

Anyone else who would have looked at Gohan would have seen a pretty handsome kid—good facial structure, dark hair, and tall for his fourteen years. What Gohan saw, on the other hand, was someone hopeless, someone terrible, someone that needed to be destroyed.

Tearing himself away from the bathroom mirror, he bolted down the hall and into his bedroom, where he locked the door after making sure Goten wasn't in there. His little brother was two years old, and a miniature copy of their father.

Rolling up his sleeve, he crossed the room and collapsed onto his bed, then reached over and opened the nightstand drawer. Inside was a small box. He lifted the lid on the box and pulled out a single razor blade. Without even hesitating he drew the sharp edge across his upper arm.

There was a small spasm of pain, and then nothing but the relaxing feeling of watching his own blood seep from his flesh. He'd been careful not to make too many new cuts—usually he just sliced over the old ones. He was still training with Piccolo almost every day, and since the gi he wore was sleeveless, his mentor would probably have noticed a whole bunch of cuts. The ones he'd already made could easily be attributed to little things, like flying too fast through the forest or wrestling with Goten. Plus, with his Saiyan-borne healing abilities, the cuts didn't last long. And when he wasn't training, he just wore long-sleeved shirts. It wasn't hard to hide.

He focused all of his attention on the red fluid oozing out of the cut on his arm, blocking everything out. All his pain, anger, and self-loathing went out the window. This was the one thing he was completely in control of, his own physical pain. He'd been doing this since about four months after the Cell Games; he'd accidentally cut himself doing something, and had been amazed at how relaxing it was to watch himself bleed. That had been the start, and he'd been cutting ever since, though he kept it to a minimum so as not to raise any suspicions.

It was quite a feeling of empowerment.

"Gohan?" the doorknob rattled, followed by someone knocking, all accompanied by Goten's voice. "Gohan, Mommy wants you to come down for supper now."

"Okay, hang on just a sec," Gohan replied as cheerfully as possible. He grabbed a rag and pressed it against the cut. The bleeding stopped within a few seconds. Having thus gotten rid of that evidence, he rolled his sleeve back down and leapfrogged across the room to unlock and open the door.

The two-year-old child was looking up at him, a huge grin on the little face. He reached up towards his older brother. "Carry me!"

"Carry you? You want me to carry you?" Gohan feigned shock. "What am I, a horse?"

"Yes!" Goten answered, then giggled furiously.

"Okay, kiddo," Gohan picked the child up and held him by his knees so that he was upside down. The two brothers walked to the dining room together laughing, and Gohan completely forgot that he had left the drawer open, the lid off the box, and the razor on his bed.

AN: Like I said, I really wanted to try writing something dark and depressing and scary. Please review, flames are welcome, and any Gohan fans, please don't kill me, I promise it'll all work out. Next chapter up soon. Thanks.


	2. A Frightening Discovery

AN: Okay, we're back with Chapter Two. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, good or bad, I appreciate it all. And if any of you think I own DBZ, I have the number of a good psychiatrist for you.

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Chapter Two—A Frightening Discovery

ChiChi set the last of the dishes in the drainer to dry. Through the open window, she could hear her sons laughing.

"Catch me if you can, big brother!"

"Oh no, you're too fast for me!"

She smiled fondly. Gohan was such a good older brother. Goten was so much like Goku…it was almost like having her husband back with her.

They'd be coming in soon. Then Gohan would tuck Goten into bed and tell him a story about Goku, just like they did every night. It was Goten's favorite thing in the world, to hear stories about his father and all the adventures he'd gone on. Some nights, ChiChi would stand in the doorway to listen to whatever tale Gohan would weave for them. And he always managed to leave a cliffhanger.

Smiling, ChiChi exited the kitchen and headed for her room. To get there, she had to pass Gohan's room; as she walked past, she glanced inside, and saw some laundry laying on the floor.

"Oh, that boy," she muttered to herself. "How many times have I told him not to leave his laundry lying around?" She set about picking up the discarded clothing. It was what he'd been wearing earlier when they'd gone over to Capsule Corp to visit with Bulma. He'd changed into his gi right after dinner to take Goten outside and run around for a little while.

As she picked a T-shirt up off the corner of the bed, something shining on the bedspread caught her eye. She leaned forward and picked it up.

A razor blade with a blood-stained edge.

Suddenly, ChiChi found that her legs wouldn't quite support her anymore, and she slowly sank down onto the bed, still holding the blade in her hand.

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Now, now, there's got to be a reasonable explanation for this, don't jump to conclusions. But what possible reason could Gohan have for keeping a razor blade around? she wondered as she looked around a little bit. In the open nightstand drawer, she saw a small white box with more blades in it. Her blood ran cold at the sight.

"There's nothing wrong, it's all explainable," she said out loud, hoping to convince herself. But it wasn't working. She decided to ask her oldest son about it as soon as he came inside.

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Right after the story, she told herself with grim determination.

AN: I know, I know, really short. But next chapter will be longer and more will happen in it, I promise. Once again, flames are welcome. Thanks a bunch!


	3. Confrontation

AN: Another chapter in this continuing saga. To all you Gohan fans, I promise that everything will work out all right, it'll just take a while. I don't own DBZ. Read on.

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Chapter Three—Confrontation

Goten's breathing was steady and soft, a sure sign that the child was asleep. He always managed to fall asleep just as the story was ending.

"The end," Gohan finished, tucking the blankets in around his little brother. "Stay tuned tomorrow night, same time, same place, for the next exciting episode." He was rewarded for his joke when his little borther smiled in his sleep.

ChiChi had listened to the story from the doorway, but her mind wasn't on the tale. Her heart felt heavy, like it was made of lead, and would crash from her chest to her feet where it would probably shatter on impact. Gohan was on his feet and had already moved past her on his way to his room.

She followed him to his room and watched him sprawl out on his bed. She didn't want to do this, but if she didn't ask, she'd spend forever wondering.

"Gohan, I need to ask you something," she began slowly, taking a few steps into the room.

He looked up at her and gave her that smile he'd inherited from his father. "Sure, mom. What's on your mind?"

"Well, Gohan…" she decided to just blurt it out. "Would you mind explaining why you've got a box of razor blades in your nightstand and why one of them has blood on it?"

Gohan's smile vanished, and was replaced by the iciest look she'd ever seen on his face. "What the hell were you doing in my room?"

That confirmed her suspicion that there was indeed something dreadfully wrong here. "Don't talk to me in that tone of voice, young man. I can go in your room if I want. I was picking up some laundry you left on the floor and I found that razor blade on your bed. That drawer was open and there were plenty more in there. I want an explanation."

"Tough," Gohan stood up, grabbed the box out of his nightstand, and walked past her, back out his bedroom door. "You're not getting one."

"Gohan!" ChiChi felt her temper begin to rise.

To her surprise, he stopped and turned to face her. The look on his face was indescribable.

"Gohan, what's the matter with you? Are you hurting yourself or something?" she began yelling in spite of herself.

"So what if I am?" he snarled.

ChiChi froze at that answer. He took advantage of her momentary paralysis to continue storming out. She managed to choke out a few words through her shock. "Gohan, come back here!"

He ignored her and disappeared around the corner. Seconds later, she heard the front door slam.

"Mommy, what's going on?" Goten's sleepy face appeared in the doorway. He rubbed at his eyes drowsily and looked up at his mother for an explanation. "What was all the yelling about? And where did big brother go?"

"He…went out to run an errand for me, sweetie," ChiChi thought the lie up quickly, not sure what else to do. What was she supposed to say? Sorry, honey, but your older brother's a manic depressive, I think he's been cutting himself, and now he's stormed out of the house headed for only Kami knows where? Not a chance in hell she was going to tell _that_ to her two-year-old.

"Oh, okay. Good night," Goten smiled with his unfailing good nature and went back to bed, leaving ChiChi alone without any idea as to what she should do next.

Feeling frightened and desperate, she picked up the phone and dialed in a number. After a few seconds, she heard a voice on the other end.

"Hi Bulma. It's ChiChi. Sorry to call so late, but we have a really big problem over here."

"What's wrong?" Bulma's voice was concerned.

"I went into Gohan's room to pick a few things up, and I found some razor blades in his nightstand. When I asked him about them, he got really defensive and ended up storming out of the house."

A shocked gasp came from Bulma's end of the line. "I'll be right over. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

ChiChi shivered. "Not a clue."

"I'll bring Vegeta along," Bulma said with more confidence then she felt. "He can sense Gohan or whatever it is they do to find each other. Don't worry. It'll all be okay."

The two women said their goodbyes and hung up the phone.

After what felt like ages, the doorbell rang. ChiChi was waiting, and she flung open the door to see a concerned-looking Bulma and an irritated-looking Vegeta.

"Can you find him?" ChiChi didn't bother with hellos, not when the situation was this serious.

Vegeta glared at her, but answered. "I can sense him and follow it, if that's what you mean."

"Would you?"

Once again, he shot her a death glare. Only a pleading look from Bulma got him to agree.

As he turned to fly off, Bulma grabbed his arm. "Vegeta, find Piccolo. If anyone can talk some sense into Gohan's head, Piccolo can. Please."

He nodded once, sharply, and took off into the night sky, heading towards the Namek's ki.

AN: There. A nice long chappie. Things are really gonna start happening in the next chapter, so please tune in. I know the whole running away thing is sorta cliché, but it makes for a good story line. As always, flames are welcome. Thanks a bunch!


	4. Running Away

AN: Hello again. Here's the next installment. What will become of our tragic hero? Read on to find out. And hard as it is to believe, after four chapters, I still don't own DBZ. Oh well.

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Chapter Four—Running Away

The cool night air slapped Gohan across the face as he soared above the clouds, but he ignored it. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

Clutched tightly in his hand was the little white box from his nightstand. Inside that box were the spare blades, the ones he hadn't used yet. There were enough of them to last for a while—however long that might end up being. He wasn't sure, and he didn't care.

He could sense Bulma's faint ki and Vegeta's huge one from behind him, at his house. His mother must have called them for support. And she was probably going to get Bulma to talk Vegeta into going out and searching for him.

Sure enough, Vegeta's ki began moving, but it wasn't following him. It was heading off somewhere to the west of him…towards another ki.

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Shit, Gohan silently cursed, _He's gonna go get Piccolo and they're gonna hunt me down and then Piccolo's gonna try and make me think about this and make me feel guilty…I gotta hurry._

The last thing Gohan wanted to deal with was Piccolo, probably the only person alive who could ever get to him, aside from his father.

But his father was dead, it was his fault, and Piccolo just couldn't understand that.

He picked up speed, not caring how much ki he was giving off. If he needed to, he knew he could always outrun them. That was one of the wonders of being a Super Saiyan.

Below him, the forest zipped by, and gave way to the city. Millions of glimmering lights twinkled like stars that had fallen from the sky. It was beautiful, but he didn't bother paying attention to it. Distraction was the last thing he needed.

His destination wasn't too far ahead. He was headed for his old training grounds, the place Piccolo had taken him when he was four years old, right after Radditz had shown up. He'd rarely gone back since the battle with Nappa and Vegeta, but now it seemed like it might be a good place to land and calm down. And figure out what to do next.

Before long, the island appeared beneath him. He dove to the earth like a falcon in the dive, flipping over at the last second to land quite gracefully on his feet.

A quick check proved that Vegeta had reached Piccolo, and they were on the move. They'd probably pick him up soon enough, so that left him very little time.

He saw a small cave nearby, and recognized it almost immediately. How many nights had he spent in that very same cave, staring at a small fire, thinking about his parents, and scratching algebra equations into the dirt with sticks? That little crevice had been his home for months, so what better place to stop and catch his breath?

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Hmm…I remember it being a lot bigger, he thought with a touch of irony as he sat down on the dirt floor, with his back against one stone wall and his legs stretched out towards the opening. It was quite dark; a small sphere of ki floating over his head did the trick. _But that doesn't matter. To business._

Gohan rarely cut himself more then once or twice a day, as so not to raise suspicions; he'd already sliced twice today. But he didn't care anymore. They already knew, so what was the point in being secretive about it anymore?

He selected a blade from the box and rolled up his sleeve. He didn't even bother with simply reopening an old injury. The sharp edge danced across the flesh of his lower arm, leaving a sticky red liquid in its wake. He'd cut himself on that part of his arm only once before, and Goten had noticed it. He'd made up a quick excuse, and had decided not to cut there again. But now it didn't matter.

The blood flowed, and his anger seemed to flow out with it. It was bleeding a little more heavily then his upper arm did, and he found that to be quite pleasing.

Even though he was calming down and letting himself bleed, he kept a mental "ear" positioned on Vegeta and Piccolo. They were on their way. Which meant he didn't have much time.

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I'll run, he decided grimly as the blood began tapering off. _I'll fly so far away that they can't sense me, and then they'll never find me, and I'll be safe, and I can do what I want. They don't understand…none of them understand anything about me…_

He briefly thought back to a conversation he'd once had with Piccolo. His mentor had told him that if he ever had a problem about anything, to come and talk to him about it, to work it out. Piccolo _had_ promised to always listen.

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Yeah, but I bet Piccolo gets really sick and tired of hearing about all my little problems. He doesn't get why I felt so bad about the Cell Games. It took forever to convince him that I was over it. I decided after the Games that I wouldn't always bother Piccolo every time something bad happened. Besides, he probably has more important things to do…meditation and stuff.

With that slightly bitter thought repeating itself in his mind, he grabbed the box and used the bloody blade to scratch a message into the floor, hoping that they'd find it.

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Piccolo, don't even bother trying to find me. I'm going away, far away. I don't want to be found. Just turn around. Yes, I've been cutting myself. I've been doing it since a few months after the Cell Games. It's the only way to make myself feel better. Tell Mom and Goten that I'm sorry, but I can't stay here. Nobody understands me. And I can't just come and yak your big ears off every time I have a bad dream. I refuse to be a burden on anyone, especially you. So just let me go. It'll be better for everyone that way. Goodbye forever. Gohan.

Having left his message along with the blade on the floor, he got rid of the ki ball, exited the cave and took off into the night sky, moving fast enough so that he would be out of sight by the time they got there. He didn't have much time to get away.

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AN: A few people have asked about my other chapter fic, "Faith", and I'm going to get to work on that as soon as I'm done with this fic. I actually have chapters 4, 5, and 6 written (long story), and chapter 1 is posted, so I just need to get 2 and 3 done. I promise I'll get to it. Look for an update on both "Faith" and this story in the very near future. As usual, you may flame me. I have my trusty fire extinguisher ready and waiting, so lay it on me!


	5. Enlisting an Ally

AN: I don't own Dragonball Z, and I don't feel like putting any commentary up here. Sorry.

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Chapter Five—Enlisting an Ally

"Namek, I know you're awake. There's a problem," Vegeta growled at the form in front of him.

Piccolo's ears twitched and he opened one eye, obviously annoyed at having been stirred from his meditation. "What's wrong?"

"It's Kakarott's brat," Vegeta rolled his eyes, as if he didn't really care what happened to the son of his rival. Something about the way he said it told Piccolo which one he was talking about.

"What's wrong with Gohan? He was flying a little ways away. Come to think of it, he was moving pretty fast. What happened?"

"ChiChi found some razor blades in room, one of them had blood on it, and when she asked him what they were for, he got mad and stormed out of the house. But he took the blades with him."

Piccolo turned to look at the Saiyan Prince. Suddenly a few things made sense, like those cuts that had been mysteriously appearing on his student's arms. Gohan had always played them down, saying they were from his own clumsiness. Piccolo had trusted him. He didn't have a reason to believe that Gohan would lie.

And he felt like a complete fool. How the hell had Gohan managed to be convincing enough that even Piccolo, Gohan's mentor, the person who knew him better then anyone else, couldn't see through it? That in itself was nothing short of amazing.

Mentally cursing at himself, Piccolo unfolded his legs from under him and did a quick mental search for Gohan's ki. Sure enough, there it was, zooming away…then suddenly, it stopped, as if Gohan had stopped and landed somewhere.

"The woman told me to find him, and to take you along because you'd be able to talk some sense into that damn kid's head," Vegeta informed him with a scowl.

"Let's get going. Wherever he landed, he's not going to stay there for long," Piccolo began emitting a white aura. Vegeta did likewise. The two fighters zipped across the night sky, looking like two shooting stars to stargazers below.

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AN: A very short chapter. Sorry. Once again, I don't feel like putting in any commentary. Sorry again.


	6. Gohan's Message

AN: ABCDEFG, I do not own DBZ.

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Chapter Six—Gohan's Message

It didn't take Piccolo and Vegeta very long to get to the spot where they felt Gohan's ki stop, but by the time they go there, he was already gone. They could sense him moving.

As they flew over the place, Piccolo recognized it immediately, and he told Vegeta so. "This is where I took Gohan to train right after the fight with Radditz, before you landed on Earth," he commented as he looked around, scanning the area for a trace of Gohan's ki, to find out where the kid had gone while he was there. "That cave over there…that's where he used to sleep. I remember it."

Sure enough, there were a few minute traces of ki around the cave, unmistakably Gohan's. He had to have been there within only the past few minutes, otherwise the energy traces would have already disappeared. From the look on Vegeta's face, he sensed it too.

The two warriors moved to the opening of the cave and peered inside. Piccolo formed a small globe of ki above their heads to give them light. The cave was empty except for something written in the dirt on the floor, beside which was a piece of silver metal, one edge discolored.

Without hesitation, Piccolo crawled into the cavern and read the message out loud. He could feel Vegeta's shock rising along with his own. When he finished he backed out and sat back, feeling something growing along with shock.

Anger.

"How the hell does he expect us to buy that?" Vegeta growled, completely forgetting that he wasn't supposed to care. "At least he got the part about your ears right."

"Damn kid," Piccolo muttered, ignoring Vegeta's commentary. "He's not thinking! And if he thinks we're just gonna let him walk away and keep doing this to himself then maybe he doesn't have a brain to think with!" It was completely beyond him how Gohan could have done this to himself. And for that long! He'd started when he was eleven, and now he was fourteen…that was damn near impossible to believe, plain and simple. And they'd all been blind enough to trust him when he said everything was all right. Well, not anymore. "We're going after him, we're gonna catch him, and we're gonna bring him back. In his little letter he asked us to tell his mother and brother he's sorry. As far as I'm concerned he can deliver that little message himself. I swear I'm going to beat some sense into that kid's head if it's the last thing I ever do!"

Vegeta simply nodded his agreement, while Piccolo wondered if it might actually be the last thing he ever did. If Gohan got angry enough…like he had at the Cell Games…there would be no stopping him.

Apparently, Vegeta had the same notion. "Don't make him angry. We won't stand a chance."

This time it was Piccolo who nodded in assent, and they took off after Gohan's ki, both moving as fast as possible. He was getting farther and farther away.

Anger and fear spurred Piccolo on until he was sure he could have matched pace with a Super Saiyan. Vegeta noticed and transformed. Piccolo fell only a tiny bit behind, but for the most part managed to keep up without any trouble. 

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He's heading towards the Northern Capital, Piccolo realized as they drew near the bright lights of the city. Only moments later, he felt Gohan's ki stop again. _Bingo._

"Hey Vegeta, he's in the city!" he hollered over the sound of the air rushing past them. The replying grunt told him that Vegeta had already figured that out.

They landed on top of a building and began their search. Gohan was pushing his ki down as far as was possible, leaving them with only the barest shred of that signature energy to follow.

Though neither of them communicated it, both began to wonder just how hopeless this search was.

AN: A little bit longer than the last chapter. I'm trying to make this story as long as possible without it getting too boring or repetitive. If it becomes either of those things, please please PLEASE let me know, and I'll try to make it better. As always, any questions, comments, and flames are appreciated and welcomed. I have a very open mind.


	7. Found

AN: Wow oh wow! I never expected so many fabulous reviews. I love everyone who reviewed, you are all neato-mosquito, awesome-sauce-um (hey, it rhymes)! You are all the tree's knees! Thank you all so much. I'll keep updating as often as possible. Promise. Here's the next installment. And if any of you are thinking, "I bet she owns DBZ," well, you're wrong.

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Chapter Seven—Found

The bright lights of the city were dazzling, but Gohan did his best to shut them out. Why the hell did he decide to land here? He was completely lost here, a fish out of water. Unconsciously, he tightened his grip on the tiny box in his hand. Just knowing it was there gave him confidence.

He ducked into an alley to think. The cut he'd made on his arm had stopped bleeding long ago, and he hadn't even bothered to roll his sleeve back down. Why should he even bother trying to hide? But he did tuck the box into his pocket, just for safekeeping.

Nearby in the alley, an older man in a ragged, dirty clothes was asleep under a newspaper, a bottle clenched in his fist. Gohan suddenly felt very frightened.

And to make matters worse, he could sense his pursuers in the city. That's why he'd stopped flying and started walking. This way, he could keep his ki pushed down low enough that maybe they wouldn't be able to find it. The only reason he'd stopped was because he was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, not to mention the fact that hunger was starting to claw at his insides.

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Maybe death would be easier then this, he thought through a haze of drowsiness that threatened to completely overtake him at any moment. _And Kami knows I deserve it._

He began nodding off, blissfully falling into the arms of sleep, but just before he fell completely deaf to the world, his mind snapped to full alert, and he shot back to reality.

Vegeta. Close. Very close.

Very, _very_ close…

"Well what do we have here?" a soft growl from only a few feet away gave him the answer he'd been praying not to get. Gohan was on his feet in the blink of an eye, facing the Saiyan Prince.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Gohan snarled, trying to hide the fact that he was trembling from head to toe. He didn't want to fight Vegeta; the only person he wanted to hurt was himself…

"I'm doing this as a favor to the women," was the curt reply. "For some reason they're very concerned about you. You really should just come back. You've caused enough trouble to everyone for one night already. Don't make it worse. And if you'll give me just a second, I'll have the Namek over here. I'm pretty sure he has a few things to say to you, brat."

Gohan's panic and anger was growing by the second. There was no way in hell he was going back—he couldn't! Even if he wanted to, there was no way he could face his mother. And even though he doubted that they had told Goten what was going on, he was certain he couldn't look his little brother in the eye either. If he had to fight Vegeta to get away, then so be it.

Apparently, Vegeta noticed Gohan's rising ki and smirked. "So you're going to fight me. Is that how desperate you are to avoid going back?"

The only response Gohan trusted himself to make was a nod. Vegeta's smile grew broader.

"Well, perhaps you'd like to discuss that with your Namekian friend," he chuckled, a laugh that actually sent chills down Gohan's spine.

And then he noticed it. Piccolo's ki. Too close…

Right behind him.

Whirling around, he found himself face to face with his former mentor.

Without even realizing it, he said the first thing that came into his mind. "Oh shit."

AN: Okay, now we're cooking with gas, that little blue flame. As always, flames are welcome, and if it gets boring or repetitive or you think a chapter just plain SUCKS, tell me, and I'll try to fix it. Thanx!


	8. I'm Not Going Back

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AN: Nay, I do not owneth DBZ. Dang it! Anyway, here's another chapter. Thank you forever to all who reviewed, you are all the best!

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Chapter Eight—I'm Not Going Back

Gohan unconsciously took a step back, then realized that Vegeta was still standing there. He was barricaded on all sides, both by people and stone walls.

"Gohan, don't do anything foolish," Piccolo said softly. "Let's just go back. Your mother's worried about you."

"So is Bulma," Vegeta added.

"I'm not going back!" Gohan's hands unwittingly clenched themselves into fists. He took another step back, putting himself within reach of Vegeta without even realizing it. Unfortunately for Gohan, Vegeta noticed, and struck.

Gohan felt the blow coming and dodged at the last second, putting himself right in the line of a punch from Piccolo. Twisting his back he managed to dodge that one too, and grabbed Piccolo's arm.

"I'm sorry to do this, Piccolo," he whispered as he spun around and hurled Piccolo into Vegeta as hard as he could. They both went flying backwards several feet and landed hard, allowing Gohan just enough time to start running.

"Gohan!" he heard Piccolo yelling after him, but he ignored it and kept moving as fast as his legs would carry him. He wove in and out of crowds, down streets, running deeper and deeper into the city.

When he finally stopped, he was about ready to just sit down and cry. They'd found his message, he knew they had, so why the hell were they still chasing him down? He didn't want to fight them. Besides, why was everyone making such a big deal out of the fact that he'd found a way to control his anger at the world and himself?

Hunched over, hands on his knees, he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and found himself reveling in the pain. But the tears that were beginning to sting his eyes were a kind of pain he didn't want.

He stood there like that for a long time, his breathing fast and irregular. When he finally stood up, he looked around at where he'd ended up. He was standing next to a store with a large window, displaying different electronic devices. Deciding he wasn't interested, he started walking around, with no particular destination in mind. Different thoughts chased themselves around his mind.

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None of this would be happening right now if Mom had just stayed out of my room, he thought bitterly, biting tears back once again. _Why was she looking through my stuff anyway?_ He replayed the evening in his mind. He'd gone into his room…locked the door…then Goten knocked…

It hit him like a bolt of lightning. How could he have possibly been that incredibly _stupid_? He'd left the evidence right out in the open, and unfortunately it had been the one time his mother had gone in there. He cursed at himself mentally, and used his fingernails to reopen the cut he'd made on his arm only a little while earlier, reveling in the pain and the blood. In the process, he stopped really paying attention to what was going on around him.

Then something else hit him like a bolt of lightning. Namely, Vegeta, slamming him backwards into a wall hard enough to crack the stone. His head struck the concrete first, and he actually saw stars. They'd ended up on a deserted street in one of the older areas of town, so there weren't many people around, and those that were either ignored the attack or were frightened and got as far away as possible.

Vegeta chuckled. "Gotcha. So, what do we have to say for ourselves?"

Gohan shook his head, trying to get rid of the stars that were flashing in front of his eyes. "I have absolutely nothing to say to you. Now let go of me."

The Saiyan Prince smirked, and surprisingly enough, let him go. "So you're still going to take that attitude. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's not what's wrong with me! It's what's wrong with everyone else!" Gohan snapped, something within him finally giving way for all his chaotic emotions to come spilling out in his next few sentences. "No one understands me! Why in the name of Kami does everyone have a problem with the fact that I found a fairly simple way to control something in my own life. I control my own pain, and I control my anger. It's my choice, Vegeta. Not yours, not Bulma's, not my mother's. And," he folded his arms and raised his chin defiantly, "I'm not hurting anyone else."

"Hmph. That's what you think," Vegeta growled, leaning against the wall in his trademark stance. "I know for a fact that what you're doing is in fact hurting your mother, and even though I don't like the woman, I think she deserves a little respect for everything she's done for you. Your little brother will be quite upset if something happens to you. Bulma thinks of you as a son, so you're hurting her. Shall I keep going? I'm sure there's plenty more."

Gohan turned around so Vegeta wouldn't see him flinch under the weight of those pitiless words. Unfortunately for him, being in one place for so long had given Piccolo time to make the scene once again. The Namekian had arrived in time to hear Gohan's impassioned speech, and Vegeta's response. He'd seen the expression on Gohan's face while Vegeta was talking, and decided that it was the right time to step in.

"What about your father?" Piccolo asked softly, sorry to do this to the kid. Sure enough, Gohan whirled around to face him, his expression a mixture of shock, grief, and rage. But Piccolo tried his best not to be affected and continued. "Do you think your father would want you to do this to yourself, kid? I very much doubt it. What do you honestly think your father would do right now if he saw you standing here like this, running away from everyone who cares about you, telling lie upon lie, with blood running down your arm from a cut _you_ made. I think he'd be disappointed. And I agree with Vegeta. You're completely blind to anything but yourself right now, Gohan. Look past the end of your nose."

The demi-Saiyan stared at his mentor for a moment, as if completely unsure of what to do next. Then he turned away again, wrapping his arms tightly around his stomach, trying to block out an iciness that was coming from within.

"We got your little message, Gohan," Vegeta sneered. "And do you know what the woman would have done to me if I had actually followed _those_ instructions? I'd be playing harp duets with Kakarott!"

"And," Piccolo continued sternly, "my ears aren't _that_ big!"

To his surprise, Gohan actually laughed. He _laughed._ He unwrapped his bleeding arm from around his stomach, revealing a large red stain on his shirt. As he leaned against the wall, he put his forehead in his blood-covered palm, and the laughter changed as the tears he'd been fighting back for so long came through in gut-wrenching sobs.

Piccolo and Vegeta both stood stoically as Gohan finally sat down and cried. After a few minutes, the sobs began tapering off, growing softer and softer. Finally, they stopped altogether.

The Namekian leaned down to check it out, and stood back up to face Vegeta. "He fell asleep. The damn kid fell asleep. Unbelievable. He wore himself out."

"Should we take him home?" Vegeta actually looked unsure of himself.

"Not like this," Piccolo answered, shaking his head. "In this state, too many people would get way too upset. I know where we can take him to get him patched up." _And put the broken pieces of his soul back together, if we can. Damn it, Gohan, why didn't you talk to us?_

AN: Those last couple of lines almost seem OOC for Piccolo, now that I really think about it. Well, after several kind sort chappies, here's a nice long one. I hope you enjoyed it. As always, flames and criticisms are more then welcome. Thanx!


	9. On the Lookout

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AN: I love my reviewers, you are all amazing and I will love you forever and ever. Here's another chapter. If I owned DBZ, I would definitely NOT be spending my time writing fanfictions. I would spend it redoing the stupid American dub!

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Chapter Nine—On the Lookout

Dende frowned and shook his head sadly. "I don't understand it."

"Neither do I," Piccolo replied. "But can you do anything?"

"I can get rid of these," the young God gestured towards the cuts that decorated Gohan's arms. "And you said Vegeta went back to tell everyone else what was going on?"

Piccolo nodded slowly and wandered out of the Palace of the lookout. Having nothing else to do at the moment, he crossed his legs and levitated a few feet in the air, eyes closed, ignoring Mr. Popo, who was keeping himself occupied by watering the flowers.

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Hmmm…the trouble is that Gohan still doesn't really understand how he's hurting everyone else. He just doesn't get it, and until he does, he can't make the change. Those weren't pinpricks he was giving himself. And if we don't put him back together now, we might as well have let him run away. It would've been the exact same thing. Damn it to the lowest hells, Gohan!

The Namekian felt his face beginning to twist into a sneer, and he fought to keep it focused and impassive. As soon as Gohan's injuries were healed and he'd woken up, they were going to have a talk.

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That's right, kid. Just you and good ol' Mr. Piccolo, having a nice little chat. You're going to tell me everything, and then we'll see what can be done to get you home in one piece.

Dende suddenly appeared by his knee. "Well, it's done. All that can be done now is to wait for him to wake up." Earth's God suddenly sat down and rested his chin in his hands. "I wish I could do more for Gohan. He saved my life when that henchman of Frieza's was after me."

"I know," Piccolo said without opening his eyes. "When he wakes up, then the real work begins."

"Taking all the little shards and trying to glue them back together," Dende sighed knowingly.

"Bingo."

Dende stood up and walked back into the Palace, followed by Mr. Popo, who was so nervous about Gohan that he'd watered the flowers just short of drowning them without meaning to. This left Piccolo alone again on the lookout.

It seemed like ages before another sound stirred him from his meditation. This time, it was Mr. Popo, softly clearing his throat.

"He's awake, and he's not very happy," Popo didn't look very happy either.

Piccolo unfolded his legs and touched down. "I think it's time for Gohan and I to have a little chat."

AN: Yeah, I know. Short and sweet. Sorry. Chapter 10 is long, though. Next episode, Piccolo has a word with Gohan. As always, reviews of any kind are welcome. Flame if you must, I understand. Everyone had their own opinion. Also, I had an idea for an alternate ending to the one I'm posting right now. I'm not sure if I'm gonna put that one up too or not. This one's longer. I dunno. Thank you sooooooooo much!


	10. The Questioning Begins

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AN: The long-awaited discussion between Gohan and Piccolo begins here. Man, hard to believe it's been ten chapters already! Good grief! Well, this is chapter 10, and I'm gonna let you go read it. No tengo DBZ. Donde estas tus pantalones?

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Chapter Ten—The Questioning Begins

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Uhh…strange…warm…where am I?

Gohan stirred a little, and opened his eyes. There were lights around him that very nearly blinded him at first, but once his eyes had grown accustomed to the brightness he got a good look at his surroundings. He was lying on a couch in a large domed room, which he recognized almost immediately.

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How did I get to the lookout? he wondered vaguely. A small scuffling noise from one side of the room caught his attention. It was Mr. Popo.

"Good. You're awake," was all he said before bowing and exiting the room for destinations unknown, once again leaving Gohan to his jumbled, sleep-fogged thoughts.

It wasn't long before another familiar face entered the room. Gohan looked up to see who it was—and promptly lowered his head and focused on the design of the blanket he'd apparently been sleeping under. It was the one person he didn't want to deal with at that moment.

Piccolo.

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Dammit, he didn't let his thoughts show on his face, but instead kept his eyes on the complex weaving pattern of the covers. He didn't look up as Piccolo crossed the room and sat down at the other end of the couch. Even though Gohan refused to look up, he could feel that Piccolo was watching him, waiting for him to say something.

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All right, Piccolo, if that's how you're gonna play, then I guess I'll play along.

"Good morning," he said slowly, letting a hint of sarcasm color his tone. "What brings you here? Or maybe I should be asking what brings _me_ here."

Piccolo wasn't amused. "Cut the crap, kid. Start talking."

"About what?" Gohan resorted to the only thing he could think of—denial, and pretending he didn't have a clue what anyone was talking about. The problem was, his former mentor wasn't buying it.

"So that's the way we're going to do this. Fine with me, I don't have anywhere to be, so I have plenty of time. Take as long as you want, because you're not going anywhere until I get a very full and very detailed explanation."

The teenager said nothing, but traced the design of the blanket with his forefinger. He was in some serious trouble; why did he have so many stubborn friends? He wasn't hurting them.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about, Piccolo," he said icily, trying to follow the example of Vegeta; the Saiyan Prince was a model of arrogance.

The Namekian raised an eyebrow. "Really? You don't remember running out on your mother, you don't remember throwing me into Vegeta, and you don't remember cutting yourself?"

Gohan thought it best to stay silent. He didn't trust himself to answer.

Piccolo, on the other hand, had plenty more to say. "So you don't know any of that, huh? Well kid, I don't believe that."

Gohan narrowed his eyes in anger and jumped to his feet. "Trust me, nothing's wrong."

"I have no reason to trust you, kid. Any trust I had in you is currently on hold. You'll have to earn everyone's trust back, Gohan. Now start talking."

"I don't have anything to talk about," Gohan growled. He was getting angry, and that scared him. If he lost it…there was no telling what he might do to Piccolo.

But his mentor wasn't giving up. "Gohan, I don't know why you're acting like this! "What the hell happened to you, kid? Have you gone crazy?" By this time, Piccolo was shouting.

It was taking everything Gohan had to keep a reign on his temper. He wanted out. He wanted to leave, to run, to get as far away from all these people as he could. And right now, Piccolo was standing in his way. If this interrogation kept up, Piccolo wouldn't be standing for much longer.

"What do you think your father would say if he knew about this?"

The tedious hold he'd had on his temper snapped. In a flash of golden light he changed; his hair stood straight up and bleached itself to a goldenrod color, and his eyes faded from onyx to azure. The force of his aura sent both the couch and Piccolo flying. The Namekian jumped to his feet to find himself face to face with a furious Super Saiyan, falling into fighting stance so he could try to defend himself if necessary.

"You want an answer, Piccolo? Let's try this. I'm the reason my little brother was half-orphaned before he was even born! Is that clear enough for you? Nothing made me feel better before! Nothing! If I show emotion, I'll get myself eaten alive. Remember that, Piccolo? You taught me that. So I had to find my own way to deal with things. And if letting myself bleed helps me deal then I'm gonna keep right on doing it because it helps me and it's not hurting anyone else!" At this point the teenager was panting with fury, and tears were running unheeded down his now-red face.

Piccolo stared wide-eyed at the person that up until recently he'd thought he knew better than anyone. Now he wasn't sure if he knew him at all. After a second of silence he managed to get his voice to work again. "Gohan…have you ever thought about doing anything more…drastic?" It was a dangerous question, and Piccolo wasn't sure if he really wanted to hear the answer.

Gohan's face twisted into a sick parody of a smile. "Yeah, actually I have. I've thought about it a lot. I've thought about just cutting my arm open and letting it bleed and bleed and bleed until I just die. I wish I wasn't such a god damn coward, because if I wasn't maybe I'd actually have the nerve to go through with it!" his eyes narrowed. "And maybe someday, I will."

AN: Oooookay…we're getting serious here…this chapter pretty much wrote itself. I put my hands on the keyboard and didn't think too much. It just all came out. Next chappie up soon. Thank you everyone!


	11. Are You Happy?

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AN: Carrying on with the traumatic tale, I give you chapter 11. I don't own DBZ.

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Chapter Eleven—Are You Happy?

The Namekian listened, horrified, to Gohan's outburst. When had this all happened? When had the sweet, happy, innocent child he'd trained so long ago become this angry, depressed person? For once, Piccolo was completely at a loss.

Gohan glared angrily at his former teacher, then threw the blanket off and stood up. He was halfway across the room when Piccolo found his voice.

"Are you happy, Gohan?" he called after the teenager, knowing full well that is was just about the most dangerous question he could have asked.

The demi-Saiyan stopped a few yards away from the door and half-turned. His face was twisted into a blend of sadness, anger, and pain. "Do I look happy to you, Piccolo?" he spat the words out as if they'd been a bitter taste in his mouth. With those furious words left hanging in the air between them, Gohan returned to normal, turned and stormed out of the room, leaving a disturbed Piccolo behind.

Gohan went straight to the edge of the lookout and sat down, letting his feet hang over the edge. From this vantage point, he could see the planet. Gods, it was beautiful…

A sudden thought struck him, and he shifted so that he could fish into his pocket…

Sure enough, his little white box was still there. He fished out a blade and rolled up his sleeve. But for the first time in years, he hesitated. Did he really need to do this? He knew that if he went back Piccolo wouldn't hold it against him. Or maybe…

No, it wouldn't work. Not here. Dende was too close. If he tried anything seriously drastic and they noticed it, Dende would just heal him, and then everything would be ten times worse, if not more.

He made his decision, and it came through in a fresh slash across his lower arm. He watched it with intense focus, blocking everything else out. The only things in existence at that moment were himself, his arm, and the lines of crimson running down his arm onto his sleeve.

Some part of his mind noted that Piccolo had followed him out here and was watching him, but he was beyond all semblance of caring. It didn't matter what Piccolo thought anymore. It didn't matter what anyone thought.

As the blood began tapering off, he slowly let the rest of the world back into existence, including Piccolo's presence, which at that moment was far too close in spite of the fact that the Namekian was a good five feet away.

"Gohan, I want you to listen to me," Piccolo growled in such a way that only Gohan could have possibly picked up the hurt among the anger. "I can't help you if you don't want to be helped. This is something you're gonna have to figure out for yourself, kid. And if you can't, then I don't know what you're going to do. But you're hurting everyone, realize it or not, intend to or not, believe it or not. Think very carefully about what you're doing."

A flutter of fabric told the teenager that his mentor had taken his leave, and had probably gone back to the Palace. This left Gohan completely alone with his jumbled thoughts and confused emotions.

AN: As always, flames are welcome, and please tell me if this thing starts getting boring or repetitive. I love you all, thanks bunches!


	12. Waiting

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AN: Ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod!!!!! I GOT 100 REVIEWS!!!!!!! Dang…okay, Candyland, girl, calm down. It's okay. But…YIPEE!!! Okay, I'm done now. I'm going to post another chapter now, but it's a little different. I don't own Dragonball Z, but if Toriyama wants to sell, I'm first in line.

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Chapter Twelve—Waiting

Bulma and ChiChi listened to Vegeta's story with a mix of several emotions: relief that they'd been able to catch up to Gohan, sadness at Gohan's attitude, anger at the fact that they hadn't just brought Gohan back home, and worry over Gohan's well-being.

"And then I left," the Saiyan Prince finished, leaning against the wall. "The Namek said they were going to heal Gohan, and then work on getting him to talk, see if they could find out what the problem is."

"So he's with Dende and Piccolo?" Bulma sighed, leaning back in her chair and pressing a hand against her forehead. "Well, I'll admit, that does make me feel a little bit better. If he does anything stupid or extreme, Dende can heal him."

"But when is my son coming home?" ChiChi demanded, tears staining her face. "If Gohan doesn't come back, what am I going to tell Goten? He'd rather die than lose his brother! I can't tell him the truth, he'd never understand. Quite honestly, I don't understand."

"Actually, I think that might be part of his problem," Vegeta closed his eyes, recounting Gohan's words. "He doesn't think anyone understands him at all, and he doesn't feel like he has anyone to talk to."

"What about Piccolo?" Bulma persisted.

"You should have seen the message he left us," Vegeta chuckled. "I believe his exact words were 'Piccolo, I can't yak your big ears off every time I have a nightmare.' It was something like that."

"Good gods," Bulma put her face in her hands. "How bad did we screw this kid up?"

Surprisingly, ChiChi answered that question. "Pretty bad."

A heavy silence descended on the room for a long, tense moment.

Then…

"Mommy?" a small voice came from the doorway. Everyone turned to see that Goten was up again, standing there in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes, and to a person who didn't already know better, it would have looked like the child had a severe case of bedhead.

ChiChi immediately slapped a façade of calmness onto her face and held out her arms to her younger son, who promptly crossed the room and crawled into her lap. "You should be asleep now, sweetie. What's wrong?"

"Where's brother?" the two-year-old asked with a yawn. "I want brother."

ChiChi was at a loss. "He's…not back yet, sweetheart."

"Did something bad happen?" Goten looked up at his mother. "Something bad happened, and Gohan's in trouble. It's bad."

Bulma's jaw fell off her face. For that matter, so did Vegeta's.

"What do you mean?" ChiChi didn't bother to hide her surprise.

"Feel it, like when I got sick," Goten said very seriously. "A bad feeling in my tummy. Gohan's far away, and the bad feeling says he's in trouble."

The room fell silent again, this time in shock. How on Earth could Goten possibly know that there was something wrong with his brother? He was only two years old!

"Have you gotten these 'bad feelings' before?" Bulma asked.

"Uh-huh," was the reply, "like when Trunks climbed up his house and fell off the roof. I felt sick then too. But this is badder. Is Gohan in trouble?" he looked up at his mother with those huge eyes.

ChiChi gave her son a tight squeeze. "I don't know, sweetie."

AN: Guess we'll have to wait till next chapter to see what happens to Gohan, but the next chapter is nice and long, so be patient. It dawned on me that I haven't really gone back to these characters, and they are important. Plus, I really like Goten ^-^ He's a cutie. I'm trying to write in a two-year-old manner of speaking, but when you're sixteen, that ain't easy. I've said it before and I'll say it again—reviews are appreciated and flames are welcome.


	13. Thinking

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AN: Howdy, all. Welcome back for installment number 13. I think we're getting towards the end of the fic, so I'm going to take this opportunity to thank everyone who read and reviewed and everyone who just read. I love you all! And I try to look in the portfolios of everyone who reviews my stuff—you guys are serious awesome!!!! For all of you wonderful people, here's a nice long chapter. DBZ is not my property. Drat. ^-^

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Chapter Thirteen—Thinking

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Why is it always me that ends up in these kinds of messes? Gohan wondered bitterly, watching the trickle of blood run down his arm. His outburst with Piccolo had been nearly two hours ago, and now he was so tense and angry and confused that he couldn't stop. He knew that Piccolo had been watching discreetly a little while ago, and he'd done his best to ignore his mentor's disappointment and disapproval. Consequently, the Namekian had apparently given up.

He'd was laying on his stomach, with his head resting on one arm at the very edge of the lookout, watching his arm bleed, little white box beside his elbow, trying to calm the anxiety that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He'd cut more in the past couple of hours then he usually did in two or three days, and he was starting to get a little bit scared.

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Why can't I stop? he screamed at himself in his mind. _I used to be in control of this, but now…it's controlling me! And I'm not gonna talk to Piccolo. Not a chance in hell._

He sighed and continued staring the cut on his arm. Blood was still oozing out. _I miss Goten. I miss my house. I miss Mom. I doubt anyone told Goten what's going on. But Mom and Bulma and whoever else they decided to include on this little conspiracy. I wonder how Goten would take it if I never came home._ He pondered that for a while.

It was a full two minutes later that he noticed that the cut he'd made on his arm was still bleeding. But he'd made that incision well over five minutes ago. Why was it still bleeding? It had never lasted this long before; usually the blood tapered off after a minute or so.

Gohan stared at it for a long time, then gritted his teeth and used the blade to widen the gash, letting more of his life fluid seep out. His entire arm was red now, and he watched it in morbid fascination for a long, long time. He'd never bled like this before; maybe he'd cut a major artery or something.

Suddenly, it hit him. He could die if the bleeding didn't stop. Already he was starting to feel a little bit dizzy. And suddenly, he wasn't sure if he wanted to die or not.

Staggering to his feet, he stumbled towards the palace. He got halfway there before his knees suddenly gave out. That was when he became completely convinced.

He didn't want to die, but he was going to.

Resorting to the last thing he could think of, he used his mind.

*Piccolo!* he sharpened the single word into a mental dagger and hurled it.

Surprise, then, *What?*

*Piccolo…it won't…stop…* his ability to even think began wavering. He tried to send an image to get his message across. *…won't…stop…*

He couldn't think anymore and let himself begin slipping into a merciful darkness. The last thought that made it through his mind was, _Maybe this won't be so bad…I'll see Dad again…_ He wasn't sure if that thought had also been sent to Piccolo, and he was too tired to wonder.

Suddenly someone rolled him over onto his back, and a hand closed tightly around his bleeding arm, but he was too far gone to even notice that pain. Then he heard a fuzzy voice barking orders, and felt a strange warmth entering his arm and spreading throughout his entire being. It pulled him back from the darkness at the very last second, and he came rushing back to himself.

Someone was calling his name, but for a long moment he was afraid to open his eyes, but the kis he could sense standing around him weren't going anywhere. It was just Dende and Piccolo; Popo probably couldn't take that kind of bloodshed and had chosen to absent himself instead.

With a sigh of defeat, he opened his eyes and sat up, ignoring the inevitable pool of blood that had formed around him on the white tile of the lookout. He also ignored the questioning looks of the two Namekians. Instead he climbed to his feet, trying to keep his balance with only partial success. Dizziness seized him and he sat right back down again.

"I…I didn't mean to do that," he said finally, even though it wasn't true. Gods, why was he being so stupid lately? Lying, running away…what was happening to him?

"Gohan…" Dende began, then stopped as if not sure what to say.

Gohan held up a hand. "I'm okay now. Thanks."

With that he struggled to his feet again, and this time didn't let himself fall over. Instead, he staggered over to the edge of the lookout where he'd been sitting earlier, and collapsed once again. He rolled over onto his stomach so that he could look down at the planet. 

*That was definitely NOT the smartest thing you've ever done, Gohan. Way to go,* his thoughts took on a mind of their own in the form of a cruel and unforgiving voice that was determined to torment him. *They probably think you've completely cracked! Maybe you have. You should've just let it go. Maybe it would've just kept bleeding and bleeding and then you would have died. Wouldn't that have made you happy, Gohan? Wouldn't it? Isn't that what you want?*

That was when he discovered that he was powerless to stop that severe voice in his mind. It kept repeating the same thing over and over again. *You could have died. Isn't that what you wanted? You want to die. The world would be so much better if you just disappeared.*

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No! he screamed back. _I don't know what I want anymore! Leave me alone!_

*You're a pathetic excuse for a human being. Oh wait—you're not a human being!*

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Go away! I'm not listening to you! I don't know what I want! I want to die! But I don't! Just leave me alone! Gods…I'm so confused…

He looked at the blood on his arm and thought about what he'd very nearly done. The majority of the red stains on his skin were still sticky.

For what seemed like the millionth time, tears stung his eyes and his throat burned. He held his breath and closed his eyes to hold them back, but it didn't work. He felt like a complete crybaby. He was the strongest fighter alive, and yet he couldn't fight his own tears.

Gohan fell onto his side on the tile floor of the lookout, curled up into the tightest ball he could, and for the third time that day, he cried.

AN: Statistics show that most people who attempt suicide want to live after the attempt is made—which makes it even sadder for the ones who actually do die. That's where Gohan's reaction came from. So don't kill the author!!!! I really do like Gohan, he just has the worst freakin' luck of anyone on the show. And to the anonymous person who told me his/her story in their review, you are in my prayers.


	14. Can You Help?

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AN: Sorry it took a little longer to get this chapter out, but it is a pretty long chappie. This was probably the hardest one to write, because I was never sure if it was realistic enough. So I am just a little nervous about this one, but what's life without risks? You only live once…unless you live in the DBZ universe with magical little orange balls that a dragon comes out of to grant wishes. I don't own DBZ, just this plotline.

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Chapter Fourteen—Can You…Help?

The next thing Gohan knew, the sun was up over the planet Earth. His eyes were burning, and his whole body ached. He uncurled himself from the tight little ball he'd fallen asleep in, and gasped as tense muscles were stretched for the first time in several hours. It hurt to move!

Almost instinctively he reached for a blade, but he made an unpleasant discovery.

They weren't there.

He was positive that they'd been right next to him when he'd dozed off. So now where were they?

The answer suddenly became painfully clear. How could he have been so incredibly stupid?

Anger replaced sleepiness, and he got to his feet and stormed off.

Piccolo was on the other side of the lookout, hovering in his usual mode of meditation. He didn't appear to notice that anyone had approached him, but Gohan knew better.

"What did you do?" the teenager snapped. His mentor opened one eye.

"To what?" Piccolo answered.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," Gohan raged. "Answer me."

"You mean this?" Piccolo unfolded his arms, revealing a tiny white box in his hand.

"Yes, I mean that. Give it back," he demanded.

"Why?"

"Is it any of your business? Give it to me, it's mine!"

Piccolo smirked and refolded his arms, keeping the prize in his hand. "I don't see why I should give you the tools to hurt yourself. You remember what happened last night, I'm sure. When you tried to kill yourself and almost succeeded, you were scared. Just admit it." He had every intention of holding those damned blades over Gohan's head if that was what it took to get the kid to talk.

"I won't admit anything to you," Gohan's anger was skyrocketing, and he was shaking. Why did he need this so badly? He needed to make that cut, and if Piccolo didn't give him that box, he wasn't above using his teeth and fingernails to tear his flesh open and let his anger flow away.

"Since when, Gohan?" for the first time since this conversation had started, Piccolo opened both eyes and turned to look his student in the eye. "When did you stop admitting things to yourself and to me? These big ears, as you so delicately put it, have to be good for something. If not listening, then what? I told you that if you had a problem, no matter what, I would listen to you and help you work through it when you needed it. You used to trust me. Did I do something wrong?"

Gohan actually looked taken aback. "I—no, you didn't—"

He was cut off as Piccolo continued. "To be perfectly honest, Gohan, I'm feeling more then a little betrayed here. You told me that everything was fine, and I had faith in you. You said that those cuts on your arms were just because you'd gotten clumsy, and I believed you. You told everyone that you weren't feeling guilty anymore and that you'd moved on, and we trusted you. And all the while, you're sneaking around, slicing yourself up to try and make yourself feel better. Does that seem fair?"

"…no…" Gohan hung his head, his anger dissipating to be replaced by something very much akin to shame. "…it's not fair at all…nothing's fair…" He sat down on the floor and stared at the ground, trying to stop his hands from shaking.

"So does it make sense why everyone's upset?" Piccolo had actually managed to get the kid to start thinking, and he wasn't going to let up when he had the advantage. "You've been lying to us for Kami knows how long. And you must have known that what you were doing was going to hurt people. Otherwise, why would you have worked so hard to make sure no one found out?"

Gohan's face burned, and he didn't look up or respond.

"Didn't I tell you that if you had a problem, you could come and talk to me, no matter what?"

The teenager nodded.

"Gohan, I don't know what to do with you," Piccolo's voice softened. "I guess I'm partially to blame for this. I should have figured it out when you stopped talking to me outside of training, and I should have known that you weren't that clumsy."

Gohan's head snapped up to stare at his mentor in disbelief. "No way! Piccolo…" his voice dropped to a whisper. "It's not your fault."

Piccolo raised an eyebrow. "Really? It must be."

"No! Just blame me!" this was almost more then Gohan's already chaotic emotions could take. "It's not…" And on top of everything else, his hands were still shaking. He couldn't stop. He needed to make a cut, and he needed to do it now. It was like a drug addiction.

Piccolo noticed the fact that Gohan was trembling, and said nothing, but instead observed. He had a shrewd hunch what was wrong, and wanted to see if he was right.

Gohan confirmed that guess. "Piccolo…I can't control it…anymore…I need…to…"

A hand on his shoulder silenced him, and he looked up into his mentor's face. "No you don't. You don't need to. You only think you do. And you can control it."

Gohan couldn't help but feel like a crybaby as tears began finding their way out of his eyes and down onto his face. Gods, why couldn't he stop crying? "I've spent my whole damn life helping other people fight their demons, deal with their problems. But when I need to face my own, everyone disappears, and I have to face everything by myself," he slumped forward and clenched his shaking hands into fists. "Why does everything I do hurt people, Piccolo?"

The Namekian shook his head. "That's not true. What you're doing now is hurting people."

"I don't want to hurt people," the teenager shook his head fervently to accent his words.

"So what now?"

Gohan was silent for a minute. Piccolo waited patiently, and got the barest hint of a whisper.

"Can…you…" he faltered.

"Can I what?" Piccolo was determined to drag it out of him, with wild horses if necessary!

"Can…you…" Gohan closed his eyes and winced, as if waiting for some deadly blow.

Piccolo waited.

"…help?"

For the first time in his life, Piccolo wanted to sing and dance for sheer joy. But instead, he just gave Gohan's shoulder a squeeze. "Kid, all you had to do was ask."

****

AN: Poor Gohan. He's going to be all right, though. Promise! Hopefully I can get the next chapter up faster, but school's starting again, and that's gonna take up lotsa time, so please be patient! As always, feel free to review if you so desire. Oh, and read **Dragonball Zeros** by Fred the Mutant Pickle. It's a parody, and it's freakin' hilarious. As depressing as my stuff can get, it might be nice to have some laughs. Enjoy!


	15. Opening Up

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AN: Helloooooo!!!! *silence* Sorry this took a while, but it was another hard one to write, and it's a little bit longer. I hope you enjoy it. I don't own DBZ. Drat.

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Chapter Fifteen—Opening Up

"All right, kid," Piccolo tried to be as reassuring as possible. "Start at the beginning."

After a long silence, Gohan took a deep breath and began. "It started with an accident. I was helping Mom in the kitchen a few months after the Cell Games, and I accidentally cut myself. I remember just watching my finger bleed, and how relaxing it felt. Then Mom came in and freaked out, so I had to stop. And it just kind of went from there. At first it didn't take much, just cutting my finger enough so it would bleed. But eventually that stopped working and I had to find something else. To make a long story short, razors just worked the best, so I stuck with them."

"Why did you keep doing it?"

Gohan hesitated. "I…I guess it just made me feel like I was in control over something in my life. I could control my own pain. And it—it was like my anger or sadness or whatever would just flow out with my blood. There were some days worse than others. The anniversary of Da—the Cell Games is always the worst, because then I have to remember everything," he paused, then added, in a bare whisper. "Last year was awful. Goten already looked just like Dad, and was acting like him too. That day was the reason I didn't want to train for a week after. I…went nuts. There was blood everywhere. I'm still kind of surprised that Mom didn't find out then. But I sliced up both my arms really bad. It hurt…a lot…" his voice trailed off into silence.

"So it was a feeling of power?"

"Pretty much."

"And how much of this stems from the fact that you're still blaming yourself over just about everything that's ever happened to any of us?" Piccolo raised an eyebrow.

"You're exaggerating!"

"Answer the question."

"Okay…quite a bit…"

"Gohan! We've been through this!"

"At the Cell Games, Dad died because of me, because of my stubborness. I'm the reason my little brother doesn't have a father," Gohan cried indignantly. "Piccolo, _you_ died because of me! Remember when Nappa and Vegeta landed? I froze, and you ended up dying because of it! 

"And do you think I blame you?" Piccolo asked pointedly.

The question took the teenager by surprise. "What?"

"Do I blame you for the fact that Nappa killed me?"

"Uh…" Gohan didn't quite know how to answer.

"The answer to that question is as follows: not a chance in hell, kid. I jumped in front of that thing, and I knew exactly what I was doing. The same goes for your dad. Get it through your head."

Gohan just stared at him. "You know me better than I know myself, you know that?"

"Damn straight, kid, and it's probably going to stay that way," the Namekian smirked. "So tell me honestly, kid. You're starting to talk through things instead of bottling things up and hurting yourself. Do you feel better at all?"

Gohan actually smiled. "Yeah…a little bit…" He looked down then, at hands that were still trembling. "But…gods…"

"It's all in your mind, Gohan," Piccolo said knowingly. "You can beat it. Just don't give in. And that's something I can't do for you. This is your fight, and in the end it doesn't matter what the rest of us do or think. You're the one who has to make the choice."

"I know."

They sat in silence for a while. Then Piccolo climbed to his feet. "Cool down for a little bit, take a walk, but don't leave the lookout. You're not going anywhere until this whole thing is straightened out. We'll talk a little bit more later."

Gohan was left alone to regroup. He did feel a little bit better. Actually, more than a little bit.

But there was still that urge…it was as if his hands had grown accustomed to mutilating his flesh, and wanted more. His mind wasn't going to let him go that easily.

__

No, no no, he shook his head to accent his thoughts. _I've caused enough pain to everyone already. I'm not gonna do this anymore. I can't disappoint Piccolo…no…I won't betray Piccolo again…_

Even as he repeated those thoughts to himself, his fingernails were digging into his arm. He didn't even realize it until he'd very nearly drawn blood. He jumped to his feet and held his arms straight down by his sides. It was taking every ounce of self control he had to keep from digging his nails into his flesh again. He began walking slowly around the lookout, not moving his arms.

Desperate, he tried to think about other things. Like his mother and his little brother…he'd be seeing them again soon. He tried to imagine how Goten was taking the fact that he wasn't there. Probably not too well. The first thing Goten did when he woke up every morning was to go see if big brother was awake. Woe to Gohan on the mornings Goten got up first because his little brother's method of waking him up was usually jumping up and down on his stomach. Gohan figured that by now Goten knew he was gone. He was probably waiting for him to come home and play.

Thinking about his little brother made Gohan feel even more terrible about everything he'd been doing lately. When his mother had told him she was pregnant, he'd made a promise to her, himself, and the then-unborn child. He'd promised that no matter what, he would be the best possible role model and father figure to his younger sibling. What kind of an example was he setting?

It was then that it really hit him. He _was_ hurting everyone else. His mother, his brother, Piccolo, even Vegeta…it hurt his friends to see him in pain, and what was he doing? Purposely hurting himself. Damn it, damn it, damn it…he sat down and put his chin in his hands. This revelation really hurt, mentally and emotionally. He never wanted any of this…

Another thought occurred to him. When in the whole course of what he'd been doing had he ever actually thought about anyone else? Never. He'd just thought about himself, no one else.

__

So I'm not only a burden of pain, I'm a SELFISH burden of pain. How do they stand me?

It was a viscious cycle—one step forward, a dozen steps back. At least, that was what it was starting to feel like. Whatever advance he might have made in his talk with Piccolo seemed to have gone down the tubes.

__

Maybe I'll never get better, he thought. There was that burning sensation behind his eyes, but he didn't have enough energy to even summon up those tears, let alone cry again. He didn't want to cry, anyway. He'd been doing way too much of that lately.

Something suddenly jarred him back to the real world. Namely, a green hand resting on his shoulder and Piccolo speaking.

"Okay, kid. I can already tell you've been thinking things over. Start talking."

AN: Argh! Another hard chapter to write. Sorry I'm taking longer to get these things out, but school's started up and all my activities are getting underway (translation—show choir season!). That takes up a ton of time, so I'll be writing whenever I get the chance, which may or may not be very often. Be nice ^-^


	16. Nightmares

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AN: Hello again, everyone. Continuing with the story, here's Chapter 16. We're only a few chapters away from the end of the fic. Oh man…well, anyway, mesa no ownie da DBZ.

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Chapter Sixteen—Nightmares

"Finally," Piccolo muttered, looking down at the sleeping figure beside him. It had taken eons to get Gohan to finally fall asleep, and he wasn't sleeping well. Even now, his face contorted in his slumber, and he was already tossing and turning. After barely being asleep for ten minutes!

Dende and Mr. Popo had been making themselves scarce, leaving the quite unsavory task of handling Gohan's situation up to Piccolo. He didn't blame them, but at the same time he wasn't sure he would have actually trusted anyone else with something this serious.

Gohan whimpered and rolled over, his head touching Piccolo's knee. The Namekian shook his head sadly. Even in his sleep, Gohan didn't get any relief.

Piccolo remembered their conversation from barely an hour ago…

__

"I can't sleep anymore," the teenager had said, looking nothing less than miserable. "Nightmares, all the time."

"What kind of nightmares?" Piccolo had asked.

"Everything," despite the warmth from the sun, Gohan had shivered. "About half are the Cell Games. Most of those are Dad or Trunks dying, but they're…different from how it actually happened."

"How so?"

"What Dad says is different. Instead of being so nice, he so…I don't know…mean. He tells me he hates me. He tells me it's my fault. I don't like to sleep anymore. I can't get away from it. I mean, I'm lucky if I get three or four hours most nights. When I can get away with it, I sleep during the day, but that doesn't happen very much. I just learned to live with less sleep."

A soft cry from the teenager stirred Piccolo from his revery. He thought for a moment, then reached down and placed one hand on Gohan's forehead. It was a good thing they had this kind of a bond, or he never would have been able to do this. Actually, under most under circumstances he wouldn't have done what he was about to do.

Making use of the mind-to-mind bond he and Gohan had developed over years of friendship, he actually worked himself into Gohan's mind so that he was just outside the nightmare. It was indeed the infamous Cell Games, and he could hear Goku's voice, his last, kind words transformed into harsh words of hatred. And he could feel Gohan's anguish.

__

Dreams, Gohan, Piccolo said firmly, using his mind, knowing that Gohan would be able to hear him. _If you will them to disappear, they will._

After a few seconds, the nightmare faded and vanished. Satisfied, Piccolo withdrew from Gohan's mind and back to himself. He gave himself a short moment to regroup and then looked down to see the results of his handiwork.

The expression on Gohan's face was calm and relaxed. He didn't toss or turn, and he didn't whimper or cry out. The nightmare had passed; Gohan had _willed _it to pass.

Piccolo smirked. _One down, the rest of the night to go._ Feeling victorious, the Namekian settled himself in to wait things out.

Through the night, he stepped in to pull Gohan back from half a dozen nightmares. Each time, it seemed like he was needed less and less. Finally, just before sunrise, he had barely gotten into Gohan's mind when the nightmare was gone.

__

Huh. Well, he always did learn quickly, Piccolo thought with a smirk, withdrawing from his student's mind. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Not long after the sun had risen over the planet Earth, Gohan stirred, this time to wakefulness. He sat up, stretched, and yawned. Then he paused and put a hand to his forehead, his expression one of confusion. "Umm…Piccolo, what were you doing in my head?"

The Namekian frowned. "So you caught me, huh?"

"I guess so. What did you do?"

"Gave you a release. You fought off your own nightmares, kid."

Gohan tilted his head to one side. "I do feel…like I actually got some sleep, instead of just being only half awake," he said slowly, and then he grinned. "Thanks, Piccolo."

Piccolo half-smiled. "Well, that takes care of part of the problem. Now we have to get through the rest of it." 

****

AN: A little bit longer chappie. I'm gonna try and get a ton squeezed into the next chapter, so it should be really really long. Not a guarantee, but I'm hoping. Not much more left in the story, for the people who have been hanging in there from beginning to end. I love you all!!!


	17. Gohan's Better

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AN: All righty then. I realized that I brought something important into play in an earlier chapter and then didn't go back to it. I meant to go back and touch base on Goten's "bad tummy feelings" again, but I spaced it off. So we're gonna backtrack a little bit, because I think it's important to the story, and plus—I'm the almight author! I can! Don't fret, dear friends, for I have chapter eighteen all written and ready to post. I'm just not gonna post it until tomorrow or Thursday. Haven't decided yet ^-^ *rampaging FF.net readers chase Candyland down and beat her with wet noodles* AHHH!!! If you kill me, you'll never know what happens! *the mob backs off* Okay then. This is happening at the same time that Gohan is having it out with Piccolo over possession of the little white box of blades, and what Goten is feeling is his brother's anger and anguish. Okay? Me no ownie da DBZ.

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Chapter Seventeen—Gohan's Better

__

Gohan, you'd better come home soon, ChiChi thought, settling into one of the kitchen chairs, having just finished cleaning the breakfast dishes.

"Mommy?" Goten ran into the kitchen in tears. "Mommy, it's bad!"

The sobbing child fell into her arms, and she pulled him up onto her lap. "What's bad, sweetie?"

"Gohan!" the two-year-old yelled, crying into her shoulder. "Big brother's in trouble. I can feel it in my tummy again, and it's getting badder!"

"What do you mean?" she asked, desperate for information.

Goten hiccuped. "I want brother!"

From then on, ChiChi couldn't get her younger son calmed down enough to get a coherent sentence out of him. The child was absolutely hysterical. Actually, ChiChi was on the verge of hysteria herself, both from what Goten's statements had implied, and from her own exhaustion and anguish over the well-being of her oldest child.

__

It's the hardest job in the world, being a parent, she thought, trying desperately to keep calm.

It didn't take long for Goten to cry himself out against her shoulder. He wept himself right into exhaustion, and actually fell asleep in her lap. She set him down on the couch and tucked a blanket around him to let him sleep it off.

She wandered back out into the kitchen and took her chair again, resting her elbows on the table and her face in her hands. It was only then that she allowed hot tears to slid out from beneath her eyes and into her fingers. Once they started, there was no stopping them. ChiChi very nearly cried herself to sleep right there at the table, but after a struggle regained her composure. Fighting to keep a steady front, she went about the chores, cleaning and the like.

About an hour later, her youngest son padded into the kitch again. He yawned, then smiled at her. "Mommy, it's all better now. It's not bad. Gohan's better. My tummy stopped hurting now." That message delivered, he turned and toddled out the front door to go play.

ChiChi was just short of going insane for lack of information. The only answers she had were Goten's two-year-old messages that might or might not have been accurate.

She sighed, distress creeping through every fiber of her being. The only thing she could do was wait for news. And that was about the hardest thing she could have possibly been asked to do.

AN: Short and sweet. I just needed to take care of that. Plus, I still really like Goten. Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way, Chapter 18 will be up probably tomorrow, and we'll start wrapping this story up. Thank you to my wonderful reviewers, I lova you all!!!!


	18. Ready to Go?

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AN: Okay, I was kinda beating around the bush with a little bit of a teaser last chapter, but now we're gonna skip back over to our tragic hero. I don't own DBZ.

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Chapter Eighteen—Ready to Go?

"Every time something happens to someone important to me, it feels like it's my fault," Gohan said softly. It had taken a long time, but he could actually admit all these things while looking Piccolo in the eye. "No matter what. Dad dying that first time. My fault—he'd come to rescue _me_. Like I said, you getting killed by Nappa. My fault. Actually, _everyone_ getting killed by Nappa. My fault. If I hadn't lost my nerve, I might have been able to stop it. Dad getting killed by Cell. My fault. Maybe if I'd killed Cell when he told me to, he wouldn't have had to die."

"The key word in all of those statements is 'maybe' or 'might', Gohan," Piccolo replied. "You _might_ have made a difference, you might not have. No one knows what could've been, but it can't be changed. It's all over and done with now. You need to stop letting what's happened in the past destroy your present. Just let it go."

"Letting go…easier said than done," the teenager commented sardonically. "Everything's easier said than done. And it's hard to just let everything go when I have to look at my father every day in the form of my little brother."

Piccolo leaned forward. "Go on." They'd gotten to the point where they talked through everything that came up, no matter how seemingly insignificant.

Gohan sighed. "When Mom told me she was going to have a baby, I swore that I would be the best brother and father figure possible. What I didn't count on was getting a mini-Dad for a sibling. I know, I know, he's not Dad, he's not a copy, he's a completely different person. But he looks like Dad, he acts like Dad, he thinks like Dad, he dresses like Dad…he even eats like Dad! Everyone says so! It's impossible to miss. And he looks up to me, Piccolo. I'm Gohan, I'm big brother, I'm the greatest guy in the world—direct quote, by the way. But every time I look at him…I just see Dad…then I blink and it's Goten again. There's no escape."

"But you said it yourself—Goten is not your father," Piccolo prodded, the voice of logic. "He's a completely different person, no matter how much he may resemble Goku. He may very well change when he gets older, and become, oh say, more like you. There's no telling what will happen."

"Yeah…I know…"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was nearing evening on his second day there, and Gohan was sitting in what could almost be called _his_ spot on the lookout. Whenever he wasn't working through things with Piccolo, he was sitting in that spot, on the very edge of the lookout. From that vantage point he could easily see the planet Earth. It was quite peaceful.

For the first time in years, Gohan didn't feel like he had to let himself bleed to let his anger or frustration or hurt run out. He was completely relaxed.

He and Piccolo had talked through everything. His guilt over his father's death, the fact that Goten was growing to be more and more like their father every day and the impact from that, and the nightmares. For the first time since the Cell Games, there were no secrets. In hindsight, Gohan realized that there never should have been secrets to begin with.

__

I guess hindsight is 20/20, he thought with a touch of irony, listening to Mr. Popo scurry around, watering the flowers. _And I'm supposed to be the smart one in this insane asylum. Guess not._

He'd actually made a comment to that effect to Piccolo, and had managed to get a dry chuckle out of his old teacher. "You are the smart one, kid," the Namekian had replied. "The thing is that you're still insane, just like the rest of us."

__

With friends like that…how can I be sane?!? he wondered._ Man, it's so weird to see Piccolo being…I don't know, nice! And he only ever acts like that around me. I'd never tell him, but he can be really sweet sometimes._

"Pondering the mysteries of the universe?" someone asked from behind him, a voice he'd heard a lot over the past couple of days. "Or just pretending you have a brain in your head?"

"Something like that," Gohan laughed in response. "So what's next on the agenda for restoring my mental health?"

"Your mental health is too far gone for anyone to save," Piccolo looked down from his imposing seven-foot height, arms folded across his chest in his usual stance. "Actually, I wanted to tell you that you need to get ready to leave. You're going home tonight."

Gohan jumped to his feet. "I am?!?!?" At Piccolo's affirmation, the teenager actually began _dancing_ around the lookout. "Woo-hoo! I get to see Mom and Goten again!! Yay!"

"Uh, kid?" Piccolo's tone was a tiny bit uncomfortable.

"Yeah?"

"Knock it off."

"Oh…right…sorry," Gohan stopped jumping around and looked sheepishly at his mentor. "So can we go now? Can we?"

"For the love of the gods, kid, you're acting like a five-year-old on Christmas!" Piccolo groaned. "Sure, let's get moving. Whath happens now is all up to you. And if you screw up, kid, we might have to go through this whole thing again."

Gohan clasped his hands over his heart and fell backwards as if struck. "A death worse than Fate!"

"Kid, if you keep this up, I'm gonna hafta beat your butt!" Piccolo tried to look and sound menacing, but it's hard to look and sound threatening when the corners of your mouth keep twitching, like you're trying to keep a smile off your face. "Come on, Gohan. I think your family needs you home."

AN: Gohan and Piccolo (and Goten) rule!!! Any guesses who my fave characters are? All righty then, a longer chapter for ya. The next one will be up…as soon as I can get it up, I guess. Thanks!


	19. Homeward Bound

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AN: Gohan's going home…are we there yet? Oh, wait, sorry, just kidding. Haha. Anyway, here ya go, I don't own this show, etc. Thank you.

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Chapter Nineteen—Homeward Bound

Gohan and Piccolo flew together towards the tiny home in the mountains. They kept their flight speed relatively low so they could continue their conversation while they traveled, so it took them a pretty decent amount of time to get to Mount Paoz.

As they drew nearer to his home, Gohan wondered if Piccolo would actually come down to the house. He knew he wouldn't mind it if Piccolo hung around for a while. Goten wouldn't mind—Goten liked everybody. To the two-year-old demi-Saiyan, the entire world was an adventure, and all the people in the world were jungle gyms. A smile crossed Gohan's face at the thought of his little brother trying to climb on the stoic Piccolo. That wouldn't go over well.

But his mother…Mom just didn't trust Piccolo. It was that simple. And Gohan knew that no matter what he said to placate her, she would never believe that Piccolo wasn't going to turn around one day and blow them all into little pieces.

They flew over a tall ridge—and there it was! The nice little Capsule house with the picnic table out in front in the middle of the forest. To Gohan, it had never looked better.

Just then, Piccolo stopped. Gohan had gone ahead a few yards before he noticed, and also stopped.

"You're not coming down?" Gohan asked.

Piccolo shook his head. "Better not. Your mother might come after me with that frying pan of hers. And I would prefer not to get in the way of that."

Gohan chuckled at _that_ image. "I understand."

"Plus, didn't you tell me once that your brother likes to climb on people? The kid's kinda cute and all, but I would not hold myself responsible for what I'd do if he tried to climb me."

This time Gohan had to laugh out loud. "I don't want to know what you'd do." He paused, then added. "To be honest, I'm kinda nervous. Okay, scratch that. I'm scared to death. I mean, how's everyone gonna take this? I don't want a big fuss! Mom's gonna freak, and—"

"Calm down, Gohan," Piccolo held up a hand. "Everything is going to work out just fine. And yes, your mother probably will react strongly. But if she freaks out to the point of swinging that frying pan around…run."

Gohan laughed again. "I'm surrounded by lunatics."

Piccolo chuckled, then became serious again. "Listen to me, kid. If something's bugging you, you tell someone. It doesn't have to be me, but tell someone. Don't let things get this out of hand again. It's not worth it, and you will be hurting others. And no matter what happens, I will listen to you. Like I said, these big ears have a purpose, and it does happen to be listening. You know where you can find me. I don't sleep, so anytime works. I'm here for ya, kid. Don't forget it."

Having said that, the Namekian turned and flew off.

"I won't forget again," Gohan said softly, watching his mentor leave. "Thanks, Piccolo."

Now left alone, he turned and flew down, landing in his front yard. Slowly, he walked up to the door, not quite sure what to do. For a loss of any other ideas, he knocked on the door, and then suppressed the urge to run.

__

Please don't be mad at me, please don't be mad at me, he thought desperately.

The door opened.

AN: Cliffhanger!


	20. Reunion

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AN: Attention passengers, this is Captain Candyland of the I-don't-own-DBZ airlines, and we have landed at Chapter 20. Please keep your arms, heads, legs, and big toes inside until you have gotten to the end. 

****

Chapter Twenty—Reunion

"Brother!" the little voice squealed, and Gohan found himself flat on his back, having been knocked over by a miniature tornado that had come flying at him.

Less than an instant later, his mother had also tackled him.

"Big brother's home! Big brother's home!" Goten squealed, wrapping his arms around his brother's neck. Unfortunately for Gohan, his mother was doing the same thing, and having two sets of arms wrapped tightly around his neck was slowly but surely cutting off his oxygen.

"Umm…could you maybe let me breathe?" he gasped. His mother and brother looked at him and slowly released him, allowing him to climb to his feet.

"Gohan! Are you all right?" ChiChi flung her arms around her son's shoulders again as soon as he was on his feet. "Where have you been?"

Gohan's arms tightened around his mother. "I'm fine, Mom. I had to get some help from a friend."

ChiChi looked up at him. "Piccolo, right?"

The teenager smiled a little sheepishly. "Yeah, I had a nice long talk with Mr. Piccolo."

"I'm so glad you're home!" she hugged him again, then moved so that Goten could have his turn.

Gohan bent down and scooped his little brother up into a tight hug. Goten's tiny arms tightened around his brother's neck.

"Big brother, are you okay?" Goten asked, not letting go.

"I'm fine, squirt."

"'Cause I felt bad about you."

Gohan pulled back enough so that he could look down at his brother. "What do you mean?"

"I felt sick in my tummy while you were gone and I told Mommy that it was something bad. Then I felt better and I knew you were okay and you would come home soon to play with me and tell me my bedtime story."

Gohan nearly fell over in surprise. His brother was already sensing these things? But he hid his startlement and gave the child a smile. "And what do you know, you were right."

"I know," Goten chirped, then threw his arms back around Gohan's neck. "But I missed you so much, big brother. Don't go away anymore, okay?"

__

Talk about a guilt trip, Gohan felt a pang of remorse for leaving Goten behind. "I won't go anywhere if I can help it. Sorry, kiddo. Hey, let me talk to Mom for a second, and then I'll be right out to play. Sound good?"

"Yay!" Goten jumped down from his brother's arms and ran off to get ready, leaving Gohan alone to face his mother.

"Gohan?" ChiChi asked seriously, her face a mask of anxiousness. "Are you really all right? If there's anything wrong, you can tell me—"

"Mom," Gohan stepped forward and put a hand on his mother's shoulder, "it's all okay now. I did some pretty stupid stuff, and I'm sorry. It's not gonna happen anymore. I promise. I'm sorry."

Tears sprang into ChiChi's eyes, and she hugged her son again. "I love you, sweetheart."

He smiled. "I love you too, Mom."

She stepped back. "If I see Piccolo around any time soon, I might have to thank him."

Gohan grinned in amusement. "He thought that if he came home with me you were gonna chase him around the house with a frying pan."

ChiChi grinned back. "That's an option too…but, Gohan, are you sure—"

"Gohan! Come on!" Goten was growing impatient.

"I'm being paged. Coming!" he gave his mother a smile and a last squeeze and darted off after his brother to whatever games Goten had in mind. He spent the afternoon making up for lost time with his sibling, who seemed strangely more attached, as if afraid Gohan was going go away again.

That night, Goten fell asleep in his older brother's lap right at the end of the story. Gohan tucked him into bed and leaned down to whisper something in the child's ear. "Stay tuned for the next episode tomorrow night, same time, same place. I love you, little bro."

Goten smiled in his sleep.


	21. In the Morning

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AN: One more chapter to go after this. Wow. This is definitely my longest fic ever…twenty-two chapters…goodness gracious mercy me! Well, enough of my woolgathering, here's the story. I don't own DBZ. If I did, I would make Frieza's voice less grating on my nerves.

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Chapter Twenty-One—In the Morning

Sunlight streamed in through the window, forcefully dragging Gohan out of a particularly restful slumber. Groaning in protest, he pulled the blanket up over his head to protect himself from the harsh sunlight. Unfortunately, the sun wasn't the only one that wanted that particular teenager awake.

"GohanGohanGohanGohanGohanGohan!" a little voice squealed, jumping on the bed. And woefully landed very hard on his stomach. He flung the covers off to see a little blur of orange, blue, and black using his stomach for a trampoline.

"What are you doing?" Gohan asked, shaking the sleep-haze from his mind.

Goten stopped jumping and sat down, still on his brother's stomach. "Waking you up. Mommy says breakfast is ready and that you need to come down. Then we can go play!"

"Umm…Goten, it would be a lot easier for me to get up if you got off my stomach," Gohan pointed out.

"Oh," Goten giggled and jumped down. "Sorry."

"Not a problem."

The two brothers went down to the kitchen, enjoyed a quick breakfast—well, as quick as any meal being eaten by a Saiyan can be—and headed outside.

"So, whaddya wanna do, squirt?" Gohan looked down at the child beside him, who was jumping up and down in impatience. He wanted to get going!

"Hide and seek! I'll hide!" Goten told him, then ran off, calling back over his shoulder, "Count, and then come find me! And no peeking!"

Gohan had to smile. He could sense his little brother a mile away, so he always knew where Goten was. It was just a matter of pretending that he didn't know. Then he got to hide, and things got interesting.

"One…two…three…four…" Gohan stood, facing the wall of the house, counting slowly and out loud. Off in the forest his Saiyan ears could hear his little brother laughing. "…eleven…twelve…"

"Very good, Gohan, you can count!" a familiar voice said from behind him. He half-turned.

"Yes, Bulma. I can count. Amazing, isn't it?" he replied very seriously. He also noted that Vegeta was standing a few feet behind her, and for some reason that made him quite nervous. But there was someone else who was happy to see him.

"Hi Gohan!" a small child with purple hair and huge blue eyes jumped up at Gohan.

"Hey Trunks! We're playing hide and seek. Do you wanna go hide?"

"Yeah!" Trunks looked up. "Mommy, can I?"

"Yes, dear."

Trunks needed no further encouragement, and disappeared into the forest.

Gohan braced himself, and was ready for the question when it came.

"Gohan, are you all right?" Bulma said softly to make sure the children's Saiyan-bred ears wouldn't be able to hear.

He sighed at the anticipated question. "Actually, Bulma, I've never been better."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Well…" she looked skeptical, but nodded. "I'll take your word for it. I don't suppose your mother's inside, is she?"

"Yeah, she's doing some chores, but she'll be happy to see you."

The blue-haired woman disappeared into the house, leaving Gohan alone to face Vegeta. NOT a confrontation any sane person would look forward to.

For a long, tense moment the two Saiyans merely stared at each other. Finally, Vegeta spoke. "So, you finally decided to come back."

"Yes, I did," Gohan answered softly. "I kinda came to my senses."

"With a little help from the Namek, I'm sure," Vegeta growled. "Hmph. I still say you're a fool for everything you did. I haven't gotten a moment's peace from that woman since you went running off, and I hold you responsible for that."

Only a person who knew Vegeta well could have picked out any trace of jest in Vegeta's tone, and fortunately, Gohan could. He allowed himself the tiniest of smiles. Vegeta _had_ been worried about him, though he wouldn't ever have admitted to caring about the son of his rival. "Oh. Um, sorry 'bout that."

Vegeta smirked, then turned and headed towards the house. Gohan hesistated, then called after him. "Hey, Vegeta, can I ask you something?"

The Saiyan Prince half-turned.

"Why did you come after me? Was it just the fact that Bulma would've killed you if you didn't?"

Vegeta didn't answer right away, but finally, his expression actually softened a little bit. "Let's just say I had a little debt to pay. I owed your father a favor. Plus," he sighed, putting a long-suffering expression on his face, "Bulma would have killed me if I didn't." Having said his piece, he turned his back to Gohan and went inside.

"Gohan!" two little voices screeched from the forest, sending flocks of birds into flight.

"Coming!" he called back, chuckling at the fact that the two demi-Saiyan children were sending up ki flares so bright that he was surprised no one else could pick them up. _And they wonder how I always manage to find them so quickly…_

Still laughing softly at the naivety of children, he jogged into the foliage to hunt them down.

****

AN: One more chapter, coming up soon! Thanks a ton!


	22. What Really Matters

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AN: Hard to believe that once this chapter is posted, the story will be complete. My stars…my heavens…my left toe…okay, enough of that. Read on for the closure of my traumatic tale. It's short, but sweet. I don't own DBZ blah blah blah.

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Chapter Twenty-Two—What Really Matters

Goten snuggled into his older brother's lap, yawning happily. "We had fun today, right Gohan?"

"Right, kiddo," Gohan sighed, settling back against the headboard of Goten's bed. "So, where were we in the story? Oh yeah, I remember. When we last left our intrepid hero…"

ChiChi didn't make it to the doorway until the very end of the tale. She got there just in time to hear Gohan's soft voice say, "…stay tuned for the next episode tomorrow night. Same time, same place." A pause, then, "I love you, little bro."

Seconds later, Gohan emerged from the room, looking exhausted. "I think he's got the right idea. Might hafta follow his example." He said a quick goodnight to his mother, then retired to his room where he closed the door.

__

Damn, that bed looks good, he thought absently, crossing the room.

Something on the floor caught his eye. He bent down to pick it up, and his jaw dropped.

One of his blades, the sharp edge already stained.

For a long moment, he didn't move. He barely even breathed. He just looked at the tiny scrap of metal held between his thumb and forefinger. That tiny urge began eating into the back of his mind again…

Then he stood up, walked over, and opened the window. From there, he threw the blade as far as he could. Such a small object with Saiyan strength behind it…that thing probably went halfway around the world. And somehow, that was quite a satisfying thought.

__

I don't need it, he told himself confidently. _I've got a couple of guardian angels down here to take care of me when things get screwed up. And that's what really matters._

That happy thought running through his mind, he started to close the window when something else caught his eye. A flash of something in the sky…

It might have been a shooting star…but he wasn't sure.

Gohan just wasn't sure.

****

AN: Ladies and gentlemen, unless someone really really _really_ wants me to try and crank out another chappie (which might be kind of difficult), or unless someone wants me to put up the alternate ending (it's shorter than what you just finished reading), we have reached the end of the fic. It just feels like the right place to end it. Holy buckets, Batman! Thank you so much to everyone who read it and reviewed, and thank you to everyone who just read it. I lova you all! God…I didn't expect so much feedback. Thank you all for visiting my little corner of FF.net. Come back if you like, or don't, it's not my call to make. Arigatou, muchas gracias, thank you, and good night.

XOXO, Candyland (but you can call me Princess ^-^)


	23. AE1 Farther and Farther Away

AN: Hello again! I post this at the request of several reviewers. By the way, I think a couple of my reviewers are completely insane. Just a casual observation, may or may not be right ^-^ Don't kill the author. Another thing about this alternate ending thingie is that Piccolo's role is much much smaller. And I like Piccolo, so…yeah. This picks up after Gohan left his message in the cave and took off (like I said, I chose the much longer one). Vegeta and Piccolo are finding his message. I don't own DBZ, but this plotline is all mine!!!

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AE: Chapter One—Farther and Farther Away

"…goodbye forever. Gohan," Piccolo finished. Behind him, he heard Vegeta growl.

"There is something very wrong with Kakarott's bloodline. They're all insane," the Saiyan Prince said with a scowl, just barely masking something that almost resembled concern.

Piccolo ignored the sally and got to his feet. "I don't understand it."

"Neither do I," Vegeta shrugged, as if bored. "The question is, what do we do about it?"

Anger stamped itself on the Namekian's features. "We are going to find him. We are going to bring him back. We are going to make him face reality. Sound good?"

Vegeta smirked. "Hmph. It's been ages since I had a decent hunt. Let's go."

The arrogant Saiyan lifted into the air while Piccolo remained on the ground for a moment longer. Piccolo extended a mental eye to search for Gohan's ki. It was already a good distance away, and getting farther. The kid was really moving. Piccolo silently wondered how much of a driver desperation was at that moment, but he didn't voice that thought as he followed Vegeta into the air. There wasn't much time.

"He's getting farther away," Vegeta growled over the sound of the whistling wind. "It's getting harder to sense him. At this rate we'll lose him!"

"Not a chance," Piccolo called back angrily.

Vegeta made the transition to Super Saiyan, but anger drove Piccolo on so that he was actually able to match pace with Vegeta. They shot across the sky, clinging to that ever-diminishing shred of Gohan's ki. As long as they could hold onto that tiny shard, there was nowhere for the kid to hide.

Inside Piccolo's mind, anger and fear battled for supremacy, spurring him forward. _Damn you, kid. I swear you're gonna regret this._

And then suddenly…

Gohan's ki vanished.

The two pursuers exchanged a startled look. 

This was impossible.

Piccolo reached again. Still nothing.

Where the hell had Gohan gone?

Vegeta's face twisted into an angry snarl. _The hunt is on, brat. I always find what I'm after._ But he yelled over to Piccolo, "Well? Now what?"

"Let's try…" the Namekian tried frantically to think. "…that way."

They shot off, heading east. What they didn't realize was someone else was also soaring, a blazing light in the inky night sky.

Heading west.

AN: Ay chihuahua…it's been a long day. I know this is short. Don't fret, dear friends, 'cuz I'll try to make the next one nice and long. The next one is going to go back over to Gohan. Different POV, new chapter. And when I get into Gohan's head, it gets complicated, so bear with me and don't hurt the author! I just really wanted to get this chappie up. Kami bless and goodnight.


	24. AE2 Away at Last

AN: All right, I've been trying desperately to rewrite this thing from memory, and I realized that in what I had originally, they lost Gohan completely. So I changed the last chapter a little bit to account for my little screw up. Sorry. I'm really out of it lately. Anyhoo, here's the next chapter, a long one as promised—back to Gohan! I don't own DBZ…but if you wanna know what you can all get me for my birthday…

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AE Chapter Two—Away at Last

__

Finally, Gohan mentally sighed with relief. _Away at last. _He couldn't sense Piccolo or Vegeta anymore. That meant that they couldn't pick him up either. And that was how he wanted it.

Tiny white box still safely in his hand, he landed on top of a high bluff overlooking a huge pine forest, cloaked in shadow beneath the pitch dark of the night sky. The only light came from the millions of twinkling stars fastened to the black velvet overhead. Any other fourteen-year-old would have been scared out of their mind at the prospect of going in there.

To Son Gohan, it was as frightening as brushing his teeth.

__

Fear, he snorted audibly. _The last time I felt fear was when Dad died at the Cell Games. I _tasted_ fear when Dad died. Nothing scares me anymore. Piccolo taught me not to be afraid. I guess I owe him for that one. Huh. Best lesson he ever taught me._

Leaving his thoughts to go where they will, he jumped down from the ridge, down through the leaves and branches, pulling up at the last second for a smooth landing. Once firmly on his feet, he took another good look around.

Trees were clustered together for as far as the eye could see. Mostly pine trees, but a few other kinds scattered here and there. They were all grouped together so closely that it was completely impossible to see through them. And the overhead foliage was so thick that none of the already-faint light from the overhead stars could have possibly made it down to the ground. The entire area was cloaked in darkness. And Gohan found that to be quite pleasing.

A quick slash from one of his wonderful blades permitted an escape valve for his anger. Having done that, he stuffed the box into the pocket of his gi. Moving at a leisurely pace, he wandered alone through the forest for a time, his Saiyan-borne senses keeping him from running into anything or falling and hurting himself. He was tense from the chase, and he was trying desperately to calm down. Blood ran down his arm, and the cool night air was quite refreshing. Yes, all in all, it was quite calming.

But all too quickly, the blood tapered off, and he simply used his fingernails to reopen that cut and let the blood flow anew. After nearly an hour of this, walking around and reopening his old cut, he realized that he was absolutely exhausted.

After weighing options and possibilities, he decided he was far enough away to be safe. He'd changed directions once he was out of sensing range, so chances were that they were searching for him in the wrong direction.

__

Guess I should find someplace to sleep, he thought to himself, scratching the cut open again. It was a fine night out, and he decided to simply sleep out. He could make do with a bed under a tree.

Rough pine needles scratched at his skin as he flung himself onto the ground beneath a huge pine tree, but it didn't bother him. He ignored the itching and let his eyes fall closed. Somewhere nearby, he could hear an owl's melancholy cry.

All in all, the atmosphere of the whole forest was doing a fine job of contributing to his already-somber mood. And he was thoroughly indulging in feeling sorry for himself.

__

Stupid, stupid, stupid…why was Mom in my room? he thought angrily, wallowing in self-pity that only fed his mood and his anger. It was like giving a drunk the liquor he shouldn't have. _She couldn't have known or even suspected anything until she found that blade. She was way too surprised to have suspected it. But how did she find out then?_

His mind wandered back and back to earlier that evening. Before his, at times, barely tolerable existence turned into the living hell it had become. He'd gone into his room…locked the door…Goten had knocked…he'd gone down for dinner…outside to play…told the story…

Suddenly his eyes flew opened and he sat up straight. Had he really been that incredibly _stupid?_

No way… he shook his head in disbelief and anger at himself. _There's no way I could have possibly been that stupid. In all this time…I've never slipped up, not once! Where the hell was my head? She went in and found the evidence laying right out there in the open. Way to go, Gohan. Nice move, genius._

For the dozenth time, he used his fingernails to rip the cut on his arms back open and let his anger just run out from the cut, down his arm, and onto the ground.

It helped. He felt better, and he let himself fall backwards again, back onto the blanket of dry pine needles that covered the dirt floor of the forest.

Considering that he was exhausted—mentally, emotionally, and physically—it was surprising that rest came quickly. It seemed that he had no sooner closed his eyes then Slumber had appeared on her silver wings and touched his eyes with sleep.

As he fell into the darkness behind his eyelids, the last complete thought to make it through his mind was, _I'll figure this out tomorrow._

The next thing he knew, a few sparse beams of sunlight were managing to peek through the heavy foliage overhead. His head hurt, dried blood decorated his arm, every muscle in his body was screaming after having spent a night curled up on the hard ground, and several songbirds were chirping nearby, their song irritatingly cheerful. It did nothing to lighten his mood; rather, it just made his head throb.

Attempting to sit up didn't help him much either. His head simply ached even more, and it also gave way to the realization that hunger was tearing at his insides.

For a Saiyan, that wasn't just bad. That was a catastrohpe of near-biblical proportions.

Forcing himself into a standing position, Gohan leaned against the trunk of the tree he'd fallen asleep under and tried to get his bearings. He was still fairly groggy, so that wasn't a menial task.

__

Let's see here… he massaged his temples as he made an attempt to review the events of the past evening in his mind. _…wow. How stupid am I really?_

Hindsight was starting to tell him that he'd overreacted the night before. Maybe he shouldn't have run away…but then again, he'd had no desire to get his butt kicked by Vegeta.

Or Piccolo.

Or his mother, for that matter. And there was no doubt in his mind as to which would be the most painful. He had to face facts—Son ChiChi was just plain scary.

__

No, he told himself, letting momentary despair give way to anger. _I didn't overreact. They did. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm not hurting them. This is my thing. They don't have to do it. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm not hurting them…_

That thought seemed to be on continuous playback in his mind.

__

I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm not hurting them…

As if to accent his thoughts and prove his point, he fished a blade out of the box, which was still stuffed into his gi pocket. Without even a second's hesitation, he dug the blade in deep and slashed his lower arm. Pain seared through his entire arm for a moment, before giving way to the beautifully relaxing feeling of warm blood seeping from his flesh and onto his arm.

After letting the bleeding taper off, he decided to find some form of nourishment and then get moving again. He was almost surprised that he hadn't been discovered. Piccolo didn't sleep, that much he knew. And Vegeta…well, even though he knew Saiyans replenished their strength mostly by sleeping, he'd almost been surprised when he found out that the Saiyan Prince slept.

A sudden thought struck him, and he chuckled to himself. _Well, I guess I picked up yet another useful lesson during my training. How to survive out here in the wilderness. I owe ya big time for this one, Mr. Piccolo._

More thorough inspection of the forest proved that amidst all the pine and fur trees, there were several fruit-bearing trees. He was able to make a decent meal of apples and berries, not unlike the kind of meal he would have enjoyed whilst training under his old mentor. It brought back memories, things he hadn't thought about in years.

__

'Hey, Mr. Piccolo, why are you and my dad always fighting? 'Cause I was gonna invite you to my birthday party!' Gohan remembered with a faint smile. _Gods above and below, I was an idiot!_

Finishing up, he wandered casually out of the woods, unconsciously keeping a mental ear positioned for any sign of someone coming after him.

__

Yeah right. They probably went the wrong way. Oh well.

The sun was high in an cerulean sky (AN: Hey, whaddya know? That rhymed! Sorry to interrupt, I just noticed that! Cool! Okay, I'm done) by the time Gohan got out from beneath the canopy of branches. Taking a moment to breath and make that all-important cut, he lifted up into the sky, keeping his speed relatively low—which meant that he was going at about the speed of a standard jet, still slow by Saiyan standards—so as not to flare his ki up too much. If he went to full power for any reason, they'd probably be able to sense it even with as great a distance as he imagined there to be between him and…them.

As he took off, some vague part of him wondered why he was thinking about everyone in such a bitter fashion. That vague part knew that they were only trying to help him, that they were concerned about what he was doing, that they didn't deserve to be thought of in such a sour manner.

He agreed with that last idea; they didn't deserve his anger. Only he did.

The rest was another story, though. _They_ weren't trying to help him, and they weren't concerned about him. _They_ just wanted to force him into the mold _they'd_ designed for him, just like _they'd_ been doing ever since he was a child, and never mind what he wanted. His mother wanted him to be a scholar, Piccolo had wanted him to be a fighter…everyone wanted something different from him. Honestly, the only person who probably wouldn't have been disappointed if he'd decided to break free and do something completely different was his father.

Gohan closed his eyes as a wave of emotions washed over him. _Dad would have been proud of me no matter what I decided to do. I could have run away from home and joined the circus, and he still would've found something in it to be happy about, provided that Mom and Piccolo didn't kill me first. _Hot tears stung his eyes, seeping through his lowered eyelids and onto his face. _Kami, Dad, I miss you so much…and it's my fault…_

He shook his head vehemently, as if trying to shake the memories right out of his head, and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. _Stop it, Gohan, you're not doing yourself any good. Just quit it and focus on what you're doing._

Quite honestly, he didn't have the faintest idea where he was going. He'd vaguely thought about a country on the other side of the world, called America, or somewhere around there, like Canada. Those were places he'd read about in all those years he'd been studying under his mother's ever-watchful eye.

Perhaps…or perhaps not. He didn't know.

And he really didn't care.

Instead of thinking, he forced himself to focus on the sapphire-blue of the sky ahead…the warmth of the sun on his back…the wind through his hair…the scenery below him…

Anything to keep him from thinking about what he was leaving behind. Anything to keep from thinking about everything he was running away from.

If only he could actually figure out what he was running from. When he went over things in his head, despite his best efforts not to, it didn't make sense.

It just didn't make sense.

AN: Okay, you wanted a long chapter, you got a long chapter! I hope everybody's happy! It's fun to get inside Gohan's head. I mean, Piccolo's my fave character, but Gohan's the easiest to right for. Oh well. By the way, one of my absolutely wonderful reviewers made the comment about Gohan throwing the blade in Chapter 22, and did it hit somebody? Truth be told, as I was writing it, that thought went through my mind as well, but I just kind of disregarded it. So here, for everyone's enjoyment, is what happened to the blade after Gohan threw it out the window.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The old man sat with his fishing pole, weight bobbing happily on the water's surface. It was sunny…peaceful…a warm Iowa summer day. Perfect for fishing!

Just then, he heard a strange whistling sound. A look around didn't ascertain the cause of the strange noise.

Suddenly, something landed in the center of the pond with a large _plop_, sending a spray of water droplets flying into the air. The old man looked blankly at the spot where…whatever it was…had landed. Then he shrugged and went back to fishing, forgetting all about it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There you have it! No one was hurt! *sigh* It's good to be the author, so I can answer these all-important questions! *sigh again* Well, I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can, but no promises as to when. Thanks a bundle, review if you so desire, and c-ya later!


	25. AE3 The Hunt is On

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AN: Sorry it took me so long to get this up. It's Homecoming week, and I've been super busy! I really don't know how well this chapter came out—I started it about four different times before it actually started to work, and so I'm not sure if it's quite up to par. I hope so! It's really short compared to last chapter. I would've made it longer, but I wanted to get this up. I own DBZ. April Fools! Wait…it's not April 1st? Awww…what a rip…

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AE Part Three—The Hunt Is On

Piccolo growled under his breath as he swooped down lower, trying to get a good look at the ground below. After they'd lost Gohan's ki, they'd flown around for quite a while, until Vegeta had silently expressed a need to rest for a while. After the Saiyan Prince had slept for a short while, they'd resumed, but they still couldn't find him.

If Gohan was sleeping, which they assumed he was, his ki would be pretty much impossible to sense; when asleep, a person's ki would all but vanish. But he wouldn't be sleeping now. It was the middle of the afternoon. The kid had to be on the move again.

The Namekian's lips pulled back into an angry sneer as he pulled back up into the sky, unable to spot the kid. _Damn it, damn it, damn it…you're gonna regret this kid, if it's the last thing I ever do…_

He closed his eyes and reached again with his mind, searching desperately for that tiny trace of ki, anything to let them know that Gohan was still okay. The thought that Gohan might not be well, or might not even be alive, actually had Piccolo somewhat scared. He didn't know what he would do if something happened to Gohan. Especially something he should have noticed and could have prevented.

Still nothing. That meant that Gohan was too far away.

__

Damn it. Well, he can't hide forever.

A thought struck him then, and he stopped in midair. He cleared his mind, formed his thoughts into a nice mental spear, and hurled it across the mind-to-mind bond that he and Gohan had shared for so many years. And Piccolo was quite pleased when he felt the thought go through.

Surprise, then, strangely enough, _fear_, then, *What do you want Piccolo?*

__

Thank Kami, Piccolo thought to himself before sending a response. *Where are you, kid? We need to talk. Right now.*

Alarm again. *Why?*

*Don't play dumb, kid. You know why. Where the hell are you?*

*I can't tell you,* came the reply, still fear-tainted. *I don't want to talk.*

*Damn it, Gohan!* without meaning to, Piccolo exploded in a mental yell. *You have a problem, and running away isn't going to solve it!*

Anxiety, panic, and something akin to _guilt_ blended and came flying down the bond. *I…I can't, Piccolo. I won't. There's nothing wrong. I don't have a problem.*

Rage surged through Piccolo. *Then explain the razor blades to me. Explain your little message to me. Explain to me why you're running away.*

Silence. For a minute, the Namekian was afraid he'd gone too far, and that Gohan had shut off the link. Then, *It's none of your business what I do. It's nobody's business what I do.*

*That's not true.* As soon as he'd gotten that first reply from Gohan, Piccolo had been following the mental signal from the bond, rather than a ki signature. It was getting stronger, which meant he was getting closer. He flared his own ki slightly in an attempt to alert Vegeta.

Sure enough, the Saiyan Prince appeared nearby not thirty seconds later. "What's going on?"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth when that oh-so-precious energy signal they'd been searching for became painfully clear. They'd caught up to him, finally, and they weren't going to lose him again. Piccolo grinned. *Hey kid, you might wanna watch out. It's getting cloudy.*

A dry chuckle came back. *Yeah, sure.*

Clouds had moved in quickly, though not enough to block the sun. It was probably going to rain.

Piccolo broke the mindlink for a moment as he turned to call to Vegeta. "If he realizes we're catching up and bolts, can you catch him?"

Vegeta smirked in all his arrogance. "Not a problem for a Super Saiyan."

He reconnected the link. *Gohan, just stop already.* A spasm of panic surged down the link, and Piccolo grinned. *Oh, did I mention that we found you?*

The link broke again, this time by Gohan's choice, but it was too late for him. They had him.

Anger and fear mingled in Piccolo's mind and spurred him on so that in a burst of speed he shot past Vegeta. The Saiyan Prince looked startled, then disgruntled, then transformed to a Super Saiyan and caught up, matching pace with the Namekian.

Suddenly Gohan's ki did a nosedive. He'd gone down and was probably taking to the ground. At least down there he'd have a physical hiding place. The level of his ki also dropped. He was pushing it down as far as possible.

Piccolo and Vegeta exchanged a look and shot towards the energy mark, each silently vowing that the kid wasn't going to get away again.

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AN: I'll try my best to get the next chappie up faster than I got this one up. I'm really sorry it took so long. Review if you like! And hey—I found a really good read a couple days ago. Read **Scars of the Past: The Life Story of Son Gohan** by Frozenflower. It's an A/U fic with a little bit of G/V at the end. I don't usually like A/U fics, but this one really drew me in.


	26. AE4 A Brilliant Idea

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AN: Next chappie up, much faster than the last. I'm sorry that took so long! Own DBZ I don't.

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AE Part Four—A Brilliant Idea

His knee stung from his less-than-graceful landing, but he enjoyed the pain as he fled through the forest, knowing damn well that it didn't matter where he went now. They'd caught up to him because of his own stupidity. He knew that Piccolo could track him through a mind-to-mind link, even if he couldn't sense his ki. And what had he done? Had a nice little chat with Mr. Piccolo via telepathy, allowing his mentor ample time to find him.

__

Stupid, stupid, stupid! he berated himself as he ran.

Then suddenly, he stopped. And smiled.

How could he not have seen that? The perfect way out. He wouldn't have to face anyone. He wouldn't have to go back. He had the perfect escape. But there wasn't much time.

Keeping an "eye" on Piccolo and Vegeta, he pulled the little white box out of his pocket and quickly selected a blade, letting the rest fall to the ground by his feet.

They were getting close. It was now or never.

He placed the sharp edge of the blade against his arm and smiled. He was supposed to be the smart one in the group, and yet he'd been a complete idiot until now. This was easily the smartest thing he'd ever done in his life.

Without another thought, he pushed the blade into his skin and drew it up his arm, making a long, deep cut that ran from his wrist halfway to his elbow. It began bleeding almost instantly. Heavy bleeding, heavier then he'd ever experienced before. It was so wonderfully soothing.

So much blood…

After a few short moments he was enveloped in dizziness, to the point that he almost fell over. But he just barely managed to steady himself, and instead lowered himself to sit on the ground. The blood ran off his arm onto the dirt of the ground beneath him.

He heard the sound of someone landing nearby, and he smiled. They were too late. There was nothing they could do. He had won.

Seconds later, he heard Piccolo saying something in his native tongue. Though his knowledge of Namekian was rudimentary, Gohan recognized a few very colorful expletives. He smiled again.

"Gohan!" Piccolo finally stopped swearing and yelled at him in a voice full of rage.

The teenager turned his head with some difficulty and threw a fake smile at his former teacher. "Yes, Mr. Piccolo?"

The Namekian looked shocked, like he didn't know what to do. "Gohan…" he choked out, "…Gohan, why?!? Why?!?"

"Because it's what I deserve!" despite his growing weakness, Gohan found himself screaming, emotions he hadn't even realized he was feeling tearing through his voice. He even managed to stagger to his feet, now ignoring the bleeding that was drawing him perpetually closer to death. "Every time someone looks at me, I can see it! They cry! Because you know what, Piccolo? I'm the reason my father's dead. I'm the reason he had to die! And they all know it! Well, now they won't have to cry anymore! I'll be dead, and they can be happy because the person who caused them all this pain is gone! I'm not hurting anyone! This is for the best! No one would give a damn anyway, even if I didn't kill Dad. I'm not my father. They all loved Dad. Everyone just expects me to be everything…" He sobbed out everything that was wrong, sustained only by raw emotions of rage, pain, frustration, guilt, and even some humiliation. Eventually, though, emotion couldn't keep him on his feet anymore, and the severity of his blood loss took over. This time, he couldn't stop himself from just falling over.

Piccolo and Vegeta were at his side in a heartbeat, leaning over him. Vegeta actually looked lost. "What the hell do we do?"

Looking equally helpless, Piccolo shook his head. "I—I don't know."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This was pretty much the last thing Gohan had expected. He'd expected to end up somewhere—Hell, Heaven, somewhere! Instead, he was…nowhere. And there was a whole lot of…nothing.

He stared around the darkness for a while, looking for something, anything! He'd always heard stories of walking into a light at death, but there certainly wasn't a light.

And he felt very strange, like he had weights tied to his legs, but heavier. Like he was tied to something. But what?

It was all so strange. So strange. Was he dead? He actually wasn't sure. If he was, there was something missing. The whole reason he'd killed himself.

Relief.

It was nowhere to be found.

He still hurt in every possible sense—physically, mentally, and most unbearable of all, emotionally. Raw emotions still cut holes in the fragile fabric of his heart.

Confused and hurting, Gohan wandered aimlessly into the night, that heavy feeling of being tied down growing heavier with each step.

AN: Don't kill the author!! Pretty please? I ran into a nice little dilemma when I was scrawling this out. I honestly didn't get this far when I was writing the two paths. So pretty much from the last chapter on is brand new, make it up as I get to it.

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Author's Pick:

There's an angsty Gohan fic by Fred the Mutant Pickle called _Before Your Eyes_. Read it. I know I plug Fred a lot, but I actually know the person and I've read this entire story. It's freakin' brilliant, and I wouldn't plug it if it wasn't. Trust me on this. It's twisted.


	27. AE5 Comforting a Child

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AN: I've had this done for about four days. I just didn't feel like posting it until now. *Angry mob chases Candyland down* NO!!! BACK, BACK I SAY!!! *Candyland pulls out her trusty spoon and beats back the mob* But I decided to post it now, so enjoy! PS: I don't own this show. If I did, all the plot holes that Fred the Mutant Pickle and I have come up with be fixed.

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AE Part Five—Comforting a Child

Dende's sigh could barely be heard over ChiChi's sobbing. Vegeta and Piccolo had, ironically enough, brought Gohan back to the very place he'd been trying so desperately to escape from. Now he was tucked into his own bed. A house-call from the God of the Earth had managed to stop the bleeding, and to everyone's surprise, Gohan was still breathing. They weren't sure how such a thing was possible, but they were thankful.

"At least he's alive," Bulma murmured tearfully. Her three-year-old son looked up at her in confusion. Since he'd been sleeping when Bulma had been called by ChiChi, he had been left in the care of their robot-helpers the previous night. He had been picked up and brought over to the Son residence earlier that morning. Neither Trunks nor Goten knew what was going on, but both children had cried at least once; they knew something was wrong, even if they didn't know what.

"Somewhat," Dende muttered as he looked out the window.

Piccolo looked startled. "What do you mean, 'somewhat'? He's breathing. That should mean he's alive, shouldn't it?"

"Yes…and no," Kami turned a measuring glance on his fellow Namekian. "I believe we may be dealing with an unensouled body. He's just a shell right now. The lights are on and everything's working, but nobody's home. It almost never happens."

"You mean his soul just left his body?" Vegeta asked incredulously.

"That's exactly what I mean," Dende nodded firmly. "His soul will be tied to his body for as long as his body stays alive. Some part of him must not have wanted to die, and my guess is that his soul fled to avoid death. It doesn't make much sense, but I do know that he's probably in much more danger and pain now than ever before. He won't pass on, and chances are that without help he won't be able to find his way back to himself."

"So he's in a sort of purgatory?" Bulma supplied, and when Dende nodded again, she continued. "But you said he can't find the way back without help. So there must be a way to help him."

"There is, but we need someone with an unbelievably strong emotional link to Gohan," Earth's God sighed. "If he was older and had perhaps managed to bond to someone, that would have worked, but because he didn't, we have to find someone else." A tug on his sleeve distracted him and he looked down to see two small faces looking up at him.

"'Scuse me, mister, but what's wrong with Gohan?" Trunks asked. "Nobody'll tell us!"

Goten just sniffled, looking pitiful. "I want brother back."

It was as if a light clicked on over Dende's head, and he knelt down beside the chibis, putting his hands on Goten's shoulder. He studied the child carefully. "Maybe…"

Bulma seemed to catch on to what Kami was thinking, and she was quick to supply some additional information. "Dende, Goten could sense when his brother was in trouble. He became completely hysterical around the time Piccolo said Gohan cut his wrist…"

Vegeta looked stunned; apparently, he hadn't been privy to that tidbit of information.

"Then this should work," Dende said with great confidence. "If he can sense that, he can call his brother back." He looked back down at the now-frightened-looking chibi. "Goten, your brother needs your help. Do you think you can call him back with your mind?"

Goten looked stricken at the thought of Gohan being in trouble; this was closely followed by confusion. "How?"

Piccolo supplied the answer by picking the two-year-old up and setting him on the bed beside his brother. "We can't tell you that because we don't know. Just try for us, kid."

The child gulped nervously, then a look of sheer determination came onto his face. "I will."

All of the adults exited the room, leaving Goten alone with what might as well have been the body of his older brother. The chibi was confused and scared. How did he call his brother back with his mind? But determination took over. Gohan needed help, and he would give that help.

Taking Gohan's limp hand in both of his own, Goten remembered what Gohan had taught him about focusing, and tried it, reaching out with his mind.

Just like Gohan had taught him.

__

Big brother? the child thought as hard as he could. _Gohan!_

So absorbed was he in his task that he didn't notice that the door was open a crack and that there was a small army of people outside watching through that crack.

"Well?" ChiChi hissed impatiently. "How long should this take?"

"How should I know, woman?" Vegeta retorted in a whispered snarl.

"Shut up, both of you!" Piccolo growled, not taking his eyes away from the opening between door and doorframe and the scene visible in that opening.

Inside the room, Goten was trying his hardest to send something to reach his brother. And he didn't feel like it was working.

__

No…his stubborn two-year-old mind refused to give up. _I want brother back._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I gotta get outta here," Gohan muttered, dragging his feet over an invisible ground. "If only I knew where here was…"

Just then, the strangest thing happened. A beacon of light shot through the darkness behind him. He whirled around to stare at it in awe. It was pulsing, dimming and brightening to the beat of his heart, and it had an unmistakable aura to it.

Goten.

A voice came into his head then, one he would have known anywhere. _I_ _want my brother back._

Goten…

But if Goten was talking to him…that had to mean he was home…

__

Oh no… he cringed at the thought of going back to the one place he'd been fighting so hard to get away from. Everyone was probably there, just waiting for him to wake up so they could lay into him for how stupid he'd been. Gods, he just wanted to die.

But if Goten could still talk to him, then that meant…he wasn't dead…how could he not be dead? He practically ripped his arm open! This was impossible!

But if he was dead, wouldn't he…be somewhere? Instead of just floating aimlessly through the never ending darkness. So…it had to be true. He wasn't dead.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. _No! I screwed up again! Dammit, I can't even die without messing it up!_

Shaking his head in anger, he looked at the beam of light that had pierced the unending night around him. Now he could pick up more things from it. More thoughts, and emotions.

What he was getting was enough to send him to his knees.

Sadness…anger…confusion…fear…

__

Come back, big brother. Everyone misses you. Mommy's crying. I don't want Mommy to cry anymore. Please, big brother. You hafta tell me my bedtime story. We have to explore that weird cave that I'm not s'posed to tell Mommy about 'cause she'll get mad…Gohan, wake up…

The plaintiveness of his little brother's thoughts got to him like nothing else could. He couldn't do it. He couldn't leave his brother behind. After depriving the child of a father, it wasn't even a choice anymore. He had to be there. Staggering to his feet, he ran through the darkness with Saiyan-bred speed, racing towards the light that now seemed to be a beacon of hope.

__

Hang on, Goten… he thought with all his might, praying that his brother could hear him. _I'm coming. Just show me the way._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everyone raced into the room as Goten's head snapped back. The child jerked a few times, then fell over unconscious, his head resting on his older brother's chest. ChiChi started screaming while Bulma rolled the chibi over and checked him over quickly.

"He just passed out, I guess," she finally delivered her verdict. "Probably wore himself out trying to reach Gohan." She sighed and looked at the teenager. "Doesn't look like it did any good, though."

"NO!" ChiChi moaned, falling to her knees while Dende went to work on Goten, shaking his head and muttering something about being sure it would work. Seconds later the chibi was back on his feet.

Piccolo said nothing, but exchanged a look with Vegeta. The two men leaned over the still-unmoving form of Gohan and watched closely.

Their scrutiny was rewarded when they saw Gohan's eyebrow twitch _ever_ so slightly. Neither said anything. As if they could have been heard over Bulma's rambling and ChiChi's sobs.

Gohan twitched again, and his eyelids fluttered a _tiny _bit, then he fell still.

Vegeta and Piccolo both straightened up and glanced at each other. Each wore a very satisfied grin on their respective faces, making it quite clear that both were thinking the exact same thing.

__

Bingo.

"Hey, you might wanna look at this," Piccolo commented smugly to the women. Both fell silent. In the newfound quiet it was possible to hear a soft groaning.

Coming from Gohan, who was now moving a lot more, though he had yet to fully open his eyes. Trunks crawled onto the bed and poked Gohan's forehead. "Hey Gohan? Bad dream?"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth then Gohan's eyes flew open, and the teenager half-jumped, half-fell out of bed, hitting the wall on the other side of the room. His eyes were wide, his face was pale, and he was gasping for air. Apparently he was also still weakened somewhat because he wasn't on his feet for very long; he slid down the wall to the floor, still panting, and shaking from head to foot.

Everyone froze except Goten, who pulled away from his mother and Bulma and crossed the room, wrapping his tiny arms around his trembling brother. "S'okay, big brother. You safe now."

Gohan looked down at the top of Goten's head, face still a mask of confusion and fear. It was obvious that he really didn't know where he was. Then he slowly wrapped his arms around the chibi and murmured a few words into Goten's hair. "I…heard you…the light…walked to the light…the way back…"

Still standing by the bed, even Piccolo had smile ever so slightly at the quite touching scene. _A child comforting a child. Unbelievable. So you chose to come back. Where were you that was so bad that you'd rather be here? After you swore you would never come back. Huh._

Trunks was the next to get over his startlement. He'd been sitting on the bed when Gohan had "returned", and had been rather unceremoniously thrown to the floor. Nevertheless, he joined his best friend by also hugging Gohan and saying comforting things. "Calm down. S'okay, Gohan. We all happy 'cause you came back. S'okay."

Gohan finally pulled himself to his feet, pratically clinging to the wall for support. He shook his head, but did not look at anyone. "I'm…I'm okay…" Apparently feeling he had said enough, he staggered through the open door. And everyone was still too stunned to even try and stop him.

His mother was the first to regain her senses, her maternal instincts overriding shock. "Gohan!" ChiChi followed him, accompanied by the two children and Dende. Vegeta, Piccolo, and Bulma were left in the teenager's bedroom. It was hard to believe that this whole thing had started the night before in this very room. It seemed like too long of a time to have only been the previous evening, while at the same time it seemed like centuries had passed.

"Did you see that?" Bulma remarked, echoing Piccolo's thoughts of a moment before. "A child comforting a child. Except Gohan isn't really a child. He never was. And now we have to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid again." She stopped talking for a breath and looked down. "I still don't understand…why would he…"

"We're going to find out," Vegeta answered firmly as he exited the room, though he already knew. Gohan's outburst after the suicide attempt had made many pieces of a previously unsolvable puzzle fall quite nicely into place. But everyone needed to hear everything straight from the horse's mouth.

Bulma sighed. "I hope so."

AN: Lalalalala…we're getting close to the end. A nice long chappie after the last one was so short. It's kind of amusing—I had a thought for an alternate ending to the alternate ending! ARGH! Nope, not doing. Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing if you decide to do so.


	28. AE6 One Last Attempt

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AN: This didn't take as long to write as I thought it would. I just had a little problem with my computer. Namely, the stupid POS wouldn't let me sign online!! Do you have any idea how insane I was going? Oh well, it's over now. I don't own DBZ.

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AE Part 6—One Last Attempt

Gohan thought his head was going to explode. Although Goten and Trunks had been warned to leave him alone, the threat of unspecified torture wasn't enough to keep them from peppering the exhausted teenager with questions.

"Where were you?" "Why were you bleeding when Piccolo brought you back?" "Did ya hurt yourself?" "Who was the short guy that looked like Piccolo?" "Why did I hafta call you?"

Finally, it was more than Gohan could take. He sat straight up on the couch and yelled at the two chibis. "ENOUGH!" It took most of what he had left, and made his head throb in time to his pulse, but it was enough to frighten the two children into silence. After about two seconds of dead quiet, a soft sniffle was heard, a sniffle that erupted into a full-blown wail, courtesy of Goten. Trunks took his best friend's lead and also began to cry.

__

Gods, leave me alone! he sighed and buried his head under the pillow. At least the adults had agreed to let him rest for a little while longer before the interrogation began. While Dende's healing could stop the bleeding and heal the injury almost entirely, it wasn't quite enough to take care of the weakness he'd sustained from blood loss, so he was being allowed a little time to rest. And he intended to take full advantage of the fact. Now if only he could do something about the kids…hmm…he was sure he had just enough left for a nice-sized energy blast…

__

No, Mom would never forgive me for that one, he thought sadly, pulling the blanket up to his chin. _Besides, unless you're Vegeta, blowing people up isn't the best way to solve a problem. Speaking of problems, I gotta get outta here before they decide I've rested enough. They're going to ask me questions _I_ don't even have answers for. I need to get away._

Even to his own mind, it was incredible that all his thoughts still only focused on thoughts of escaping and running away. He was already home, and they'd made it quite clear that they weren't going to let him go without a fight. Yet he still needed to run, though he still wasn't sure from what.

An idea struck him, and he rolled over to look at the sobbing children. "Hey, you two, let's play a game. It's called the Quiet Game." Immediately, the two chibis stopped crying and looked at him with intent interest. "What you hafta do is be really quiet. The first one to talk loses. Coughing and sneezing is allowed. Got it?" They nodded, and he grinned to himself. "Ready…go!"

The wonderful, wonderful sound of silence landed on the room with a thud. Goten and Trunks each took a chair and stared at each other intently, each determined that the other would be the first to make that crucial sound and therefore lose the game.

Chuckling quietly in victory, Gohan eased himself to his feet and tiptoed towards the door, which he opened and closed silently before turning to face the fresh air. Grey clouds now blanketed the sky, and he suspected that it would rain any minute. It didn't bother him, though.

A pang of guilt struck a chord in his heart, something he didn't expect. It was at the thought of leaving Goten behind again. For a short moment, he paused. His brother had called him back from the darkness, though for what reason he didn't know.

__

Goten doesn't know, he decided. _He doesn't know about all the things I've done. He doesn't know what happened at the Cell Games. He doesn't know, and even if he did, chances are that he wouldn't understand. If he did, he'd probably hate me too. It's my fault he doesn't have a father._

Becoming firm in his resolution to free them from the pain of his existence, Gohan began walking. His weakness still plagued him somewhat, and he didn't quite trust himself to try and fly. He just wanted to get somewhere else. He was nearing the forest as the first few drops of rain sprinkled down on him.

But unbeknownst to Gohan, someone had been watching him, ever since he'd woken up. The trust was gone, and this someone had responded to an instinct that said Gohan wasn't through yet. That instinct had been correct.

__

God damn it, kid, Piccolo growled. _Here we go again. You're just not in as good of shape now. This should be much easier._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gohan collapsed under a tree. He hadn't been able to get very far in his current condition. It dawned on him that his disappearance had been discovered, and chances were that someone had been sent on to track him down and drag him back again.

Someone. Translation: Piccolo and/or Vegeta. They'd been the hunters since this whole thing had began. And he'd been the hunted.

He still wasn't sure what was driving him to run away, and he was beginning to hate it, that inner urge to escape everyone that cared about him and everything that had ever meant anything to him.

A check with that handy sixth sense told him that the hunters were indeed on their way, moving at quite a leisurely pace. That meant that they knew exactly what his condition was, and they knew how easy it was going to be if they caught him. He didn't have enough reserves to fight.

__

Shit, shit, shit, he cursed, anger battling fear for supremacy in the confusion and chaos of his mind.

He struggled to his feet, that strange drive forcing him to his feet and making him run. He suspected that given half a chance, it would push him to the point of death if necessary.

*Just knock it off, kid,* Piccolo's voice jumped into his open mind. *Come on, be reasonable. You're in no condition to try and survive out there.*

*I don't care.*

*Listen up, brat,* to Gohan's startlement, _Vegeta_ joined in on the conversation with no little anger. *You're being a damned fool, and I suspect you already know that. Think about someone other than yourself! Do you think we enjoy having to hunt you down and drag you back? And even though I don't like that damn woman, I think your mother deserves a little better than this. Bulma hasn't given me a moment's peace, and neither has my son. And while we're on the topic of children, let's talk about your little brother. If you recall, he doesn't have a father. He has you, and that's it. So start thinking and stop being so god damn selfish!* The Saiyan Prince finished, and a sullen silence replaced the voice in Gohan's mind.

The anger of the words stung his mind like nothing else had yet. And it stunned him into a reaction that no one, not even himself, would have ever expected.

Gohan stopped running.

The rain hammered down, soaking him to the skin. One wet lock of black hair drooped down, plastering itself to his forehead, but he ignored it. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head drop. His breath came in ragged gasps both from exhertion and emotion. At his sides, his hands clenched into fists. It didn't help matters that he was shaking from head to toe.

__

Just leave me alone… he thought, but he couldn't will himself to send the thought at his mentor. He just knew that Piccolo wouldn't pay it any heed; he was far too stubborn for that. And the same went for Vegeta. The two were far more alike then they would probably ever admit.

A soft rustle of fabric and the sound of a twig breaking told him that they'd caught up to him, that they were right behind him, prepared to drag him home by force if necessary and make him face everything he'd been trying to get away from. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run, to flee, to get as far away as he could. But as with the thought, he couldn't will himself to escape.

In the next five seconds, three eternities passed. Silence had descended along with the still-falling rain. Gohan managed to get his breathing back to normal, and his thoughts straightened themselves out.

__

I don't want to run anymore… the realization hit with the force of lightning.

*Then don't."

The response nearly made him jump, but years of dearly-bought self-control kept him from showing any signs of surprise. He answered, tentatively, *Did I send that?*

*As a matter of fact, you did,* Piccolo's mindvoice was too calm. *If you don't want to run anymore, then don't. Come back. Everyone just wants to help you, Gohan. They want you home.*

Gohan wanted to protest that he couldn't go back, that he couldn't face the friends and family he'd nearly run out on for a second time. Then he looked down at his arm. A thin white line decorated his lower arm from wrist halfway to his elbow, a nice little souvenir of the past couple of days. The chaos of emotions that had knotted themselves around his heart squeezed with the memories, and with that pressure, the last of his self-control broke.

Tears fell, mixing with the tears of the clouds on his face. He could taste the salt. How long had it been since he'd cried enough to taste it? He didn't want to remember. Silently, he willed himself to stop, but his shoulders wouldn't stop shaking. Gohan knew that behind him, they could see him breaking down, and he was absolutely certain that they were shaking their heads in disgust, condemning him for showing emotions, for the weakness of tears.

Instead of a scathing reprimand, a hand lowered itself onto his shoulder. He raised his head and partially turned. Surprisingly, it was Vegeta, looking at him with a strange half-smile. "Ready to go?"

Gohan stared blankly at the Saiyan Prince, the words not totally registering in his mind. As everything clicked in his mind, he slowly lifted his gaze to look at Piccolo. His former mentor also wore that odd little half-smile. Under Gohan's questioning glance, the Namekian nodded slightly.

Another tense moment of silence. The two adults waited expectantly for the teenager's answer.

Finally, Gohan's shoulders slumped in defeat and he nodded, once. Then let his chin fall against his chest again, focusing his attention on a very oddly-shaped rock that had taken up residence in the mud at his feet.

A hand pressed itself against his back and steered him over towards Piccolo, but he didn't look up; he just couldn't look his mentor in the face. He wasn't sure if he would be able to look anyone in the face. It was to the point that he couldn't understand why they would want him back. He was lower than dogs, or at least that's how he felt.

But the choice was no longer his to make.

It was over.

He was going home.

And this time, he was going to stay there.

AN: Here's the scoop. I had the part from where Gohan stops running on written already, and I really wanted to use it, so I made him run one more time. This is the last time, he's going home now! I swear! Thank you for viewing this chapter. Please leave your seats and traytables in the up


	29. AE7 An Unexpected Guest

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AN: *Candyland dodges rotten fruit being thrown at her head* Okay, okay, I'll write more! Here, here's another chapter! Now back! Back I say! *rampaging mob returns to their computers to read* Okey dokers, guys, here's da scoopie—someone sent me an interesting idea, something I hadn't really thought of, and I decided that I was an idiot for not coming up with it myself, so I'm going to use it. A really special thank you to W.V.F for the thought. So this alternate ending, which was going to be over in, like, two chapters, is now probably going to be a tiny bit longer. So here we go, me no ownie da DBZ, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda. Gods above and below, I can't even think of anything creative for the disclaimer anymore.

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AE Part Seven—An Unexpected Guest

"Are you ready to go?"

"I've been ready forever."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Trust me, this needs to be done."

"It's nothing they can't handle."

"I don't know if I believe that. It's sort of my fault that this is happening, and it's my job to make sure that everything comes out all right."

"If you say so, Goku."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The lamplight was soft and yellow, but it still hurt Gohan's eyes. Despite all the time he'd spent resting in the past few hours, he was completely exhausted. The prospect of crawling into bed and sleeping until sometime in the next century was becoming more and more appealing by the second.

But instead of sleeping, he was sitting in the living room of his house in a chair, facing the couch where his interrogators—ah, his friends and family were sitting. At that moment, he would have much rather been cut in half with a rusty spoon then be sitting there looking into their worried, anxious faces, having to take that disappointment and face it head on. And what made it worse was that they'd been sitting there for nearly half an hour, and they hadn't said anything. It had become painfully obvious that what was supposed to happen was that he was to start the conversation with some semblance of an explanation or an apology, two things he wasn't really in a hurry to dish out. He figured that if he sat there long enough, they would get sick of waiting and just start the stupid conversation. Judging by Piccolo's agitated expression, it wouldn't be very much longer.

Outside a torrential downpour was only adding to the depression surrounding that little room. The clouds overhead had darkened to black, hiding the stars and moon. Every few minutes, lightning would brighten the darkness, and thunder would crash, shaking the little Capsule house and making the lights flicker. Goten and Trunks, who were both fuming over an argument as to who had really won The Quiet Game, were standing at the window with their little hands and faces pressed up against the glass in awe. Gohan figured it was just a matter of time before his mother yelled at them for smudging up her clean window. Neither of them really knew what was going on—he doubted that either of them even had a concept of suicide—and he wasn't inclined to fill them in.

Gohan twisted his hands in his lap, focusing on the scar that ornamented his arm. A nice, painful reminder of his own stupidity. He wished that someone would say something. He didn't care what at that point—cry, scream, yell, swear, ground him until he graduated from college, _something!_

A particularly bright flash of lightning broke across the clouds, sending the two chibis running away from the window in surprise and fear. Trunks ran and hid behind his mother on the couch, earning a look of disgust and an eye-roll from Vegeta, while Goten dived into his brother's lap and clung to Gohan's shirt in sheer panic.

Smiling a little at the unexpected and much-welcomed interruption to this unsubtle torture, Gohan wrapped a comforting arm around the frightened child. "What's the matter, squirt?"

"Loud. Bright. Scary," Goten whispered seriously.

Across the room, Trunks snorted from behind his mother. "You big scaredy-cat!"

"You ran away too!" Goten turned and whined at his friend. Trunks merely snorted again, but just then the thunder hit and both chibis screamed and took to their hiding places again. "Big brother protect me!" Goten squealed, hiding his face in Gohan's shirt.

Something akin to compassion crossed Gohan's face. "Don't be afraid. I'll protect you." 

Goten responded with a muffled sound of agreement.

The tension in the room was now broken, much to Gohan's relief. 

"Goten, Trunks, I think it's time for you two to go to bed," Bulma said, and interrupted the chibi's protests with a very firm "NOW!"

"But big brother hasta tell me a story!" Goten protested indignantly, pulling his face out of Gohan's shirt and turning to face Bulma.

The teenager saw the opportunity, and he seized it. "Well, I think we can do that." He darted across the room and plucked Trunks out from behind Bulma, and was out of the room before the adults could really react.

__

I may not be able to get out of this, he thought grimly, _but I can at least postpone it a little longer._

Tucking the two children safely into Goten's bed, he told them the story. But he was only able to put half as much into it as he usually would; his mind was thinking more about what he was going to face when he went back to the living room. The prospect was just short of a nightmare.

Soft, even breathing told him that the demonic duo had been taken away to Dreamland, and signaled the end of his reprieve. Steeling himself for what was to come, he tiptoed out, easing the door closed behind him.

Just as he turned away from the door, he heard a scream from the living room.

__

Oh god! his heart quickened. _Mom!_

In a flash he was in the room and in a fighting stance, but no scene of destruction met his eyes. The only thing out of place was an overturned couch. Piccolo was off by the door, shaking his head and muttering, while Bulma and ChiChi were both sitting beside the upended piece of furniture, mouths hanging open. Vegeta, in the true Vegeta manner, was standing alone with his arms folded. He was using some fairly colorful expletives in what sounded like about five different languages.

Then he followed everyone's gaze to the reason the room was so different from the one he had left. And his arms dropped to his sides in shock as his tongue froze in his head, impairing his ability to form words and speak.

__

No…it can't be… he could feel himself starting to shake. _It just can't be…impossible…_

In the middle of the room was an all-too-familiar figure, exactly how Gohan remembered him—the orange and blue gi, the gravity-defying spikes of hair, the friendly charcoal eyes, and the famous smile, all of which Gohan had missed seeing for the past three years.

Somehow, he managed to get his voice working enough to say one word. "…Dad?"

Son Goku's eyes came to rest on his son, and they brightened. "Hello, Gohan."

That was all the conversation they had time for as ChiChi recovered from her shock and dove at her husband. A brief but happy reunion followed.

"Goku, how—" Bulma (who had picked herself up off the floor) started to ask, but he answered before she could finish.

"I have one day to spend here on Earth," he said cheerfully. Gohan immediately noticed, however, that there was something bothering his dad. There had to be a reason for Goku to come back. But what? The teenager forced himself to listen as his father continued. "I'm spending today with my family."

As Goku's eyes once again focused on him, Gohan knew. He knew exactly why his father had returned at that moment. There just wasn't another explanation.

Ice clawed its way up Gohan's insides. _Dear gods, what do I do?_

Surprisingly, another emotion began eating at Gohan's stomach, something he thought he'd buried long ago, in the days immediately following the Cell Games. A feeling he wanted to forget, but staring his dead father in the face had brought it right back up to the front. Something so severe it was already consuming him.

Anger.

AN: Hmmm…why is Gohan angry? Guess you'll hafta wait and find out! Haha…I'm so evil…


	30. AE8 Father and Son Meeting

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AN: I don't own DBZ. I do own this storyline, though. IT'S ALL MINE!!!! Now if you'll go read the chapter, my pet Saibaman and I are going to go get icees. *Candyland turns around and cups her hands around her mouth* HERE, KIWI!!!!!! *a tired-looking Saibaman comes running into computer room* Ready to go, Kiwi? *Saibaman whistles and nods* Great. Go read, we'll be back soon!

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AE Part 8—Father and Son Meeting

The next morning, visitors were signaled by pounding on the door. Everyone had been alerted concerning Goku's visit, and the entire gang was all there together. The last time everyone had been there had been before the Cell Games, and now it could be just like old times, even if it was only for a few hours.

Everyone—Krillen, Number Eighteen, their infant daughter Marron, Tien, Chaot-zu, Yamcha, Bulma, Vegeta, Trunks (who had been taken home the night before by his parents after Goku's arrival), and Piccolo—had come over early so as to not waste any more time than necessary with their long-dead friend, and they were all currently crowded around the kitchen while Goku ate breakfast. For the most part, it was a merry time indeed; everyone was enjoying themselves in the kitchen.

Down the hall, however, someone was becoming slightly annoyed by the noise. Namely, a very young half-Saiyan by the name of Son Goten.

The two-year-old pulled a pillow up over his head, trying to block out the loud sounds, but it was to no avail. Finally, the chibi gave up and crawled out of bed, yawning cutely. (AN: Sorry, but I just know it would be cute ^-^) After pulling on his usual orange and blue gi, he pushed open the door and trudged down the stairs, still rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. His stomach had only one thing on its mind at that moment: breakfast. The most important meal of the day.

Goten walked around the corner and opened his mouth to ask his mother what the morning meal was going to be—he hoped it would be something delicious, like pancakes! But then he saw something that made him just stand there in shock. To his two-year-old mind, it was very confusing.

There was a man sitting at the table in the chair that nobody ever sat in, and he was eating—a lot! He was wearing a bright orange gi over a blue T-shirt, and had black hair that stuck out in half a dozen different directions. The man seemed very cheerful, but there was just one thing…

He looked like a taller, older version of Goten.

And Goten found that to be very frightening.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" the chibi screamed, suddenly fully awake. Every head in the room turned just in time to see the child disappearing back around the corner. Though they didn't know it, he was making a beeline for his older brother's room.

Meanwhile, at the table, a very confused Goku scratched his head. "What was that?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It had been a long, sleepless night for one, Son Gohan. He had gone to bed shortly after his father's reappearance, and had lain awake, watching the stars fade into the first faint light of the dawn. He knew he needed to sleep, and truth be told, he was exhausted, but there was too much going on inside his head for him to just roll over and fall asleep.

He'd listened as everyone came to their little house, but had chosen not to acknowledge them or inform them that he was indeed awake. The longer he could stay upstairs, safely hidden away, the better. He'd only gotten out of bed once, to walk over and push his door closed. With that barrier to the sound, the noise was muffled enough that he could actually relax somewhat and actually do some thinking. For the last hour or so, he'd been ruing a promise he'd made to Piccolo in a mind-to-mind conversation just as the Namekian was leaving…

__

*Listen up, kid, I want you to promise me something,* Piccolo growled in his mind.

*Yeah?* Gohan replied noncommittally.

*Promise you won't try to run away again,* the mindvoice held just a hint of actual concern, the most Piccolo would probably ever show. *And don't do anything stupid. Can I trust you?*

Gohan hesistated briefly, knowing that when he responded it had to be the absolute truth. You couldn't lie mind-to-mind. Finally, he sighed in defeat. *Yeah, Piccolo, I promise.*

Since he couldn't lie in a mindlink, his word had been taken, and Piccolo had left him with that confidence. And now he was wishing that he hadn't had to make that promise. He wanted out.

Or rather, he didn't want his father to come back and get involved. It wasn't his dad's place to come back and tell him how to live after all this time. The anger continued to burn in Gohan's mind and heart, and he knew that if he was prodded at all, he'd lose it. And then what would he do?

A loud, high-pitched scream broke the relative quiet that he had been enjoying, and he sighed. _Wonder what got into Goten…_

As if in answer, the chibi came bursting through the door and jumped onto the bed, landing quite heavily on his brother's stomach. This caused Gohan no little pain, but he ignored it and tried to focus on what had Goten so worked up. "What's up, squirt?"

"A weird guy eating at the table!" the child panted. "He looks like me!"

Reality clocked in, and with it came realization. _Duh, genius. Goten's never met Dad._

"Gohan!" Goten wailed loudly into the teenager's ear.

"Hey, calm down, kiddo, you're gonna make me deaf," Gohan sat up. "Don't get so freaked out. Just give me two seconds to get dressed and we'll go down together." He quickly through on one of his standard dark blue-purple gis and scooped his two-year-old brother up onto his shoulders for the short trip down to the kitchen. Goten giggled happily at his brother's antics.

Everyone turned and smiled fondly at the sight of the two brothers having such an obvious good time, but it wasn't lost on Gohan that the smiles seemed to be a tiny bit…was forced a good word? He wasn't sure, but there was definitely something hiding behind those grins, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what. _Do they know what happened? Naw, no way. Mom wouldn't just go telling everyone under the sun…would she? No…no way._

The Z senshi greeted him and made room for him at the table. He sat down, carefully schooling his expression as so not to give away anything he didn't have to. Already, he was getting a few odd looks and a very piercing glance from his father.

Gohan made a quick decision and picked Goten up, setting the chibi on the table right in front of Goku. Goten took one look at the father he had never before seen, and screamed again before whirling around and crawling back over to Gohan.

"Goten, this is Dad. Remember, I told you that you looked a lot like him," Gohan asked.

For a second, the chibi just sat there. Then he turned slowly and crawled back over to take a good look at Goku. Goku just looked back.

Finally, Goten's face broke into a wide smile. "Oh, you're Daddy! Big brother said you look like me! He was right!"

A chorus of laughter erupted at the child's enthusiasm, but changed into a harmony of "awwws" as Goten hugged his father for the first time in his life, then took a seat in Goku's lap and started chattering a mile a minute about himself; he also seemed to be regarding Goku's halo with a certain degree of awe, much to the amusement of the observers.

Gohan took full advantage of the group's apparent distraction to tiptoe off and make his way outside. He could have run off right then, except for three things. First, he'd given his word that he wouldn't, and when he made a promise to Piccolo especially, he kept it. Secondly, even if he did break that promise, he'd be caught and dragged back here and then he'd have to face a _disappointed _Piccolo and Goten and now his father. And lastly, it dawned on him that there was probably someone watching him, most likely Piccolo or Vegeta. They still didn't trust him not to make a break for it.

He sauntered around his front yard for a while, mostly walking in circles. There was no place else for him to go, but he didn't want to be inside with…that man. Just thinking about his dead father was enough to make his blood boil in his veins. He would be all too glad when this day was up and he could go back to trying to forget.

After maybe ten minutes, he heard the front door open and close, so he knew someone had come outside. But he didn't even have to extend a mental touch to find out who it was.

"Gohan?"

The teenager inwardly winced at that voice. Anger battled nervousness and fear for supremacy in his mind, but he managed to put on a level front. "What do you want?"

Goku's voice was concerned. "Gohan, I need to talk to you."

AN: Cue dramatic music please! Hehe…next chappie up soon. If I feel like it. Gods, the power of being the author! Man, I'm just under 400 reviews! Wow! I love you guys!!!!!!


	31. AE9 Anger

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AN: It's half past midnight, and I should be finishing up that stupid project for school, but since I'm online downloading music I figured what the hell, let's just get the next chappie up so I don't have to think about it tomorrow. Just for a warning, this chapter is the most angsty thing I've ever written. And it was _hard!_ I hope this came out all right. I wasn't sure about the last chapter at all. But like I said, this is all emotion and stuff, as is the next chapter. If you review, review honestly. Thanks a ton, I don't own DBZ.

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AE Part Nine—Anger

"Gohan, there is a reason I came back," Goku said levelly, aware that his son wasn't happy about anything that was happening. "I'm here because I know what you've been doing. I know what's going on, and I'm here because it's kind of my fault that you feel the way you do. You're not doing any good for yourself or anyone else by cutting yourself, son, and I want to help."

The teenager audibly snorted, something he'd probably picked up from Vegeta. "Well, you can't."

"And why not?" Goku demanded, reminding himself to keep calm. But something about Gohan's attitude was really getting to him.

"Because you don't know me," Gohan growled, still facing away from his father. 

"What do you mean? I know you—"

"No, you don't!" the teenager snapped. "I hate to break it to you, but you have no right to interfere with my life anymore. It's none of your business what I do."

Goku was silent, which surprised Gohan enough that he turned around to see what kind of a reaction his words had gotten—

—and felt the stinging impact of a hand across his face.

Gohan actually cried out in surprise. _Did Dad just…slap me?_

Apparently, Goku had, and he wasn't done yet. He grabbed the front of his son's gi and pushed the stunned teenager against the wall of the house. The look on Son Goku's face was one Gohan had almost never seen—it wasn't quite angry, it wasn't quite sad, it wasn't quite disappointed, it wasn't quite anything, it just was. And it was directed straight at him.

Fear inched its way up Gohan's spine. _Maybe I went too far…no. I didn't. He needs to know exactly what's what now. I'm not backing down._

The Z fighters came running out of the house, apparently drawn by the sound of flesh hitting flesh, or perhaps Gohan's cry, but father and son ignored them all. Goku moved forward until his face was about two inches away from his son's, then said, in an even, too-calm tone, "I am your father, Gohan. It is very much my concern what you do."

At those words, the tedious hold the teenager had had on his temper snapped, and he felt his ki rising as he raised one fist and landed a perfect punch right on his father's nose. Goku stumbled back, clutching his injured face, too surprised to even feel pain. While Goku tried to react, something within Gohan broke, and he made the transformation to Super Saiyan as he raged. "You're my father, are you? Well then where the hell have you been for the last three years, _Dad?_" He put a sarcastic accent on the word 'Dad'. "Why didn't you want to come back, _Dad?_ Maybe it's because you didn't care about us! Everyone else in the world mattered more to you than us! We're your family, but we always had to take back burner to people who didn't know you and wouldn't remember you! All those times you went off somewhere else to train and left me and Mom all by ourselves. _Piccolo_ was more of a father to me than you were. Hell, V_egeta's_ a better father than you. At least he stays around with his family!"

In some part of his subconscious, he was vaguely aware that his mother, brother, Trunks, and Bulma were all crying, while everyone else was simply staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed. He also noticed that his father was looking stunned and stricken, and he took a certain amount of twisted satisfaction from the emotional grief he was putting his father through. And he wasn't done yet. "You abandoned us! You abandoned me and Mom and Krillen and Yamcha and Piccolo and Vegeta and everybody! What about us, _Dad_? The things you cared most about were eating, training, fighting, and family, in that order. And if some new enemy showed up, then it was _adios, amigos_, gotta go save the world. You didn't have to listen to Mom crying herself to sleep at night when you weren't there, Dad. I did. And you didn't have to listen to everyone cry when you said you didn't want to be wished back. I did. You weren't there for anything after crazy Uncle Radditz showed up. In other words, I had a father for four years and after that it was someone who was there every once in a while. How dare you think you have the right to ask anything of us, _Dad_? And look at this!"

Without even thinking, Gohan held up his arm, the one with a thin white scar tracing the line of the blood vessel, and shoved it right under his father's nose, knowing full well it would hurt Goku and happy in that knowledge. "Are you proud of this? I did this because I couldn't take it anymore, _Dad_. I've been doing everything. I've been studying, training, helping Mom, taking care of Goten, and everything else that needs to be done. I'm the only role model Goten's ever had, and if I screw up, then he might end up getting screwed up. And you know what? _I can't do it!_ I am fourteen years old, with a past that includes things most people have only seen in their nightmares. I can't handle it. And _you_—you were never there. Ever. You have nothing to do with me, and you have no right to try and help me, as you put it. I don't need your help. I don't want it. You leave us alone, leave my little brother with no father for two years, and then come back and think everything's all right. Well it's not. You chose not to come back, _Dad_. You didn't even think about what we wanted. If there was a tougher enemy, we would have found some way to beat it! It wouldn't have mattered! But no, you have to go be the world's hero, and never mind what your family thinks. Forget about us, forget about the people who love you." Tears of anguish were streaming unnoticed down Gohan's face now. "What about us, _Dad_? _What about us?!?"_

Throughout his entire outburst (if that word even begins to describe what had just transpired), Gohan was slowly and steadily moving forward, and Goku was slowly and steadily moving backwards, too much in shock to do anything about it.

By the house, ChiChi was screaming weakly for him to stop it, but he could barely hear her. She was crying too hard to put any force behind her words anyway. Bulma was clinging to Vegeta's arm in something very much akin to fear, and the Saiyan was too stunned himself to even noticed. And the chibis were absolutely terrified, grasping whoever happened to be nearest them. For Trunks, it was his father, who once again didn't even realize that there was anyone holding onto him. In Goten's case, it was Piccolo, and the chibi was hanging on with a vengeance.

But it was Goku who had just borne the brunt of his son's fury. How long had Gohan been holding that back? He'd been dead for three years, but that seemed like much more than three years worth of pain, grief, and rage. One thing he did know—he was fortunate that Gohan hadn't attacked outside of shoving him once. If the teenager had decided to really go after him, Goku doubted he could have put up any semblance of an defense. And words failed him, he couldn't say anything to even attempt to placate his son. In short, he was just as powerless as Gohan felt.

Suddenly, Gohan stepped back. He was breathing hard from the force of screaming. And the tears were still flowing freely from his eyes, although now he actually noticed them, and his shoulders were shaking with crying and anger. At his sides, his hands clenched into fists so tightly that his nails cut into his skin and drew blood. He looked down through his tears at the blood, and grinned sadistically. It was so twisted a smile that even Vegeta shuddered.

Without warning, Gohan wheeled around to face the rest of the assembled Z senshi. The smile vanished, and he snarled at them, "I hate you! I hate you all! You never cared what I wanted, it was always what everyone else needed or wanted me to be! When have I ever made a decision about my own life? Never. You never let me. I hate you I hate you I hate you!" He was still crying, harder now, and he spat the rage-filled words at him as if they had tasted bitter in his mouth. Finally, he put his face in his hands and staggered back a few steps, whispering between sobs, "I wish I was dead…I wish I was dead…"

AN: Whoa…okay, let's calm down now. Gods, I hope this came out all right. Next chappie up soon. There's not many left. But I had to write a big confrontation, just because ya know what? I don't think Goku is the best father in the world, for all that he's a nice guy and all. If you watch carefully, you'll see that he never really even hugs his kids. I swear to goodness, he never _really _gives his kids an actual hug. And that's kind of sad I think. Thanks again to W.V.F. for her awesome suggestions. They've been a huge help for my poor lil case o' writer's block over here.

PS. I have an idea for one more chapter of "Confessions". If anyone wants another one, send me a freakin' idea or two, cuz I'm drawing an utter blank! Thank you.


	32. AE10 Forgive?

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AN: I'm not quite sure if I like how I did this, so I'm gonna post it anyway. Hey, I can change it, can't I? I give you Part 10 of this twisted, traumatic tale. After I post this, I get to go to All-State practice, oh joy! Do I own DBZ? Don't think so.

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AE Part 10—Forgive?

It was a rare occurrence in Goku's life, but it was happening now. He was so stunned he couldn't even speak. All he could do was stare helplessly at the train-wreck of emotions in the shape of the person that was his son. He'd never imagined that it was that bad. When had this happened? When had the sweet, polite, obedient child become this…it wasn't even a person anymore, it was just a bundle of nerves, ragged feelings, and seething rage.

Nearby, nearly the exact same thoughts were chasing each other through Piccolo's head. This was his best friend! How had he missed what had been happening? He knew Gohan better than anyone, and yet even he hadn't known, hadn't been able to see what was happening. And it felt like one hell of a personal failure on his part.

Gohan had stopped crying by now, though he was still moving backwards with slow, dragging, uneven steps. His breath still came in ragged gasps, and he was still hissing at them, "I hate you…I hate you…I wish I was dead…I hate you…I want to die…"

"Gohan?" Krillen said softly. "You don't want to do something you'll regret."

"What the hell do you know?" the teenager snapped angrily.

"We know the whole story, Gohan," Yamcha answered softly. "We know. They told us so we could help make sure you didn't try to run again."

Gohan stared at them, something written across his face that defied any and all description. Finally, he sputtered, "You…know? They…told you?"

The small assembly nodded, looking collectively worried. And somehow, that only served to make the demi-Saiyan angrier. "So now you're my babysitters? Is that it?"

"Gohan—" Goku tried to speak, but he was cut off.

"So now the whole world knows how screwed up I am? Is that what's going now? Well, fine! That's just fine!" his eyes blazed as he dug his fingernails into his skin. It took a few seconds, but he managed to rip a two-inch gash in his arm, and the blood ran. "How's this? Is this screwed up enough for you? _Is it? Am I insane enough yet?_"

Gohan's face suddenly transformed from anguish to resolve, and he smiled again, the same slightly deranged smile as when his hands had started bleeding. Apparently forgetting about the blood on his arm, he turned back to face his father, held up his left hand and formed a sizeable ki blast.

"No, Gohan!" someone—it might have been Bulma, though he honestly wasn't sure—yelled from off to the side. "You don't want to kill your father! Don't do it!"

"Who says this is for Dad?" the teenager sneered. Across the yard, as realization sunk in, he continued. "This isn't for Dad. This is for me. I promised Piccolo that I wouldn't run again, and I'm not going to. But I can't stay here. I can't, I can't, I can't! There's no place for me here. I can't…I can't do it!" With those angry words left hanging in the air, he aimed the blast at his chest.

"What do we do?" Tien yelled.

"There's nothing we can do," Piccolo said, lowering his head in defeat. "We could stop him a million times, and he'd never give up. We can't do anything. Right now, his problem is with Goku, so it's going to have to be Goku who talks him out of it."

ChiChi shrieked, and the chibis cried even louder; they didn't have a clue as to what was transpiring, but they knew that it was something bad, and that Gohan was in trouble, and that was enough—or rather, too much—for them.

Goku faced his son and spoke calmly. "Gohan, listen to me. Don't do it. Please, just calm down."

"Why should I listen to you?" Gohan spat angrily.

"Don't do it," Goku continued as if he hadn't heard what his son said. "Please. You're choosing a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Think about your mother. What will she do if you go? And Goten. You said it yourself, you're the only role model your brother's ever had. How will he take it if you're gone? Won't that hurt him?" The whole time Goku was talking, he was walking forward slowly, trying to get close enough to maybe grab Gohan's arm or something.

The ki ball in Gohan's hand flickered ever so slightly, but not for long. But it was enough that Goku noticed it and saw that maybe something he was saying was getting through to his son.

A flash of orange broke away from the assembly by the house and attached itself to Gohan's leg. The teenager looked down into his brother's eyes. "Goten, let go!"

"Uh-uh!" Goten shook his head fervently and tightened his arms around his brother's leg. "No!"

"Goten, let go!" Gohan was getting angry, and at that point he didn't care what he did.

"No!" the chibi shrieked. "Won't!"

"GOTEN!" his temper snapped, and he raised his free hand as if to strike his brother.

His mother screamed again. "Gohan, NO!" Out of the corner of his eye he could see her trying to run forward to her sons, but Yamcha held her back, muttering something about her getting hurt. And he could see the horrified look on his father's face as well.

Goten cringed in anticipation, and whimpered softly. "Big brother…"

Something inside Gohan clicked at that moment, and he froze, and for the first time really thought about what he was doing. He could feel the ki blast pulsing in his hand; Goten was hugging his leg possessively, and his hand was raised…

__

Oh dear god! his mind went numb with horror. _I almost hit Goten! What the hell is wrong with me? What kind of a monster have I become?_

He stared at the poised hand for a moment. It was red from his bleeding. The irony of being red-handed (so to speak) wasn't quite lost on him, even in this state. And the blood on his arm, too…it was all still wet, still warm and sticky on his flesh. After contemplating his arm for a long time, his raised hand dropped to his side, and came to rest on his little brother's head. Goten stopped wincing and looked up hopefully. Gohan used his free hand to pry his brother off his leg and gently pushed him back. The chibi stumbled back a few feet and made a small, high-pitched sound.

Gohan ignored Goten's cries and looked at the blast in his hand. It was time.

"Gohan, listen to me," Goku resumed, seeing a glimmer of something in his son's eyes. "It won't change anything. It won't do any good to anyone, it'll just cause a whole lot of pain for more people. Think about your family and friends. Do you know how crushed they would all be if you were dead? Please don't do this. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I never knew you felt this way, and I never realized what it was doing to you. If I'd known, things would have been different," he continued moving forward…only a few more steps, and he would be within arm's reach. _Please…don't do it. Don't do it, Gohan. _"Please don't do it. We can't force you not to die, Gohan. We can only ask you to live."

For a long, tense moment, Gohan stared at the ki ball still pulsing in his hand, as if mesmerized. But it was flickering now, along with his eyes, which were going back and forth from emerald to onyx. Everyone was unconsciously holding their breath…

Then the energy ball faded from Gohan's hand, and his arm slowly dropped to his side; his eyes and hair darkened from goldenrod and lime to jet. His chin dropped and hit his chest. He did not move.

Goku wanted to dance from happiness, but there were other things to be done. He had managed to get within reach of his older son, and that's what he did—he slowly reached out a hand and lowered it onto Gohan's shoulder. "Gohan? Look at me, son."

The teenager forcefully shook his head, so Goku tried to put a hand under Gohan's chin to make his son look up at him, look up into his eyes, but Gohan jerked his head off to one side and lowered his chin again; his eyes remained downcast. Goku decided not to push the issue but instead continued to speak softly. "Are you all right?" All he could get in response was a mute nod.

Slowly, Goku pulled his son forward and hugged him. "I'm sorry, Gohan. I know that's not worth much, but it's all I can say. I'm sorry, son." The teenager tensed momentarily, then relaxed and hugged him back, if somewhat awkwardly.

It was about then that it really hit Gohan—what he had almost done. He'd nearly hit Goten, and he could have died. And all of a sudden, he wasn't sure if he wanted to die. The sounds of screams and crying echoed around in his ears, a reminder as to what he'd just put his friends and family through. And they were just trying to help him. Suddenly, his desire to make _them_ hurt, to make _them_ feel _his_ pain…it disgusted him. He felt lower than dirt.

__

No no no…get it together, Gohan! he mentally chastised himself when he felt his entire body starting to shake, like a washing machine on spin cycle. And add insult to injury, his eyes were once again filling with tears he would have rather died then shed. Unfortunately, death just wasn't an option anymore. As the first genuine tear slid slowly down his face, he realized that he had no control left.

For what seemed like the millionth time in the past couple of day, Gohan lost it. He was probably the strongest being alive, and he was powerless to keep himself from crying. He was Saiyan, dammit! Why couldn't he keep it under control? Yet here he was, after nearly putting a beam through his own chest and striking his little brother, he was sobbing like a child into his father's shirt, whispering "I'm sorry…I'm sorry" over and over again, though he doubted they believed it.

Goku felt the first tremors run through Gohan's mind, and squeezed a little bit tighter. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay. Just let it go."

Gohan felt something grab his leg again, and he looked down to see not only Goten, but Trunks as well this time. Both chibis were looking up at him through wide eyes.

"Big brother? You better now?" Goten asked innocently, smiling at up Gohan. But hearing that only made him think again about what he had almost done to his little brother, and he couldn't respond for lack of coherence.

"It's okay," Goku continued to whisper soothingly. "It's okay…"

Gohan managed to find his voice. "No, it's not okay!" He took a few rattly breathes and continued. "I've spent my whole life helping the entire rest of the world fight their demons. And when I need to face my own problems and my own crisises, everyone disappears! Nobody cares!"

"You know that's not true."

"Maybe not, but it sure as hell feels like it most of the time!"

"What else? I know there's more," Goku's voice was soft and comforting. The assembly of Z fighters were slowly moving in towards them, as if worried that their presence might frighten Gohan. None of them would have ever thought that Son Gohan was even remotely capable of any of this, and they were very much in shock.

The teenager choked. "I…I have to go." He tried pulling away then, but Goku wouldn't let go.

"Why do you have to go?"

"I can't stay after what I just did?" for the first time since this whole thing had started, he looked directly into his father's face, into his father's eyes. "No way in hell! I…I just can't."

"Why?" Piccolo asked softly from behind him.

Gohan jumped a mile and turned his head slowly to look forlornly over his shoulder. "Because none of you trust me anymore. Now all that stuff I was afraid of really is true. I'm just pain for everyone. I'm a monster. Besides," his voice dropped to the barest hint of a whisper, so soft barely even Piccolo heard it, "it's not like anyone will ever forgive me."

The Namekian smirked, having been the only one able to make out the words. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, kid. I think everybody is more than willing to forgive you for this one."

Instead of the disclaimer he'd expected, Gohan looked at him thankfully. "Do you…mean that?"

"Of course," Goku said, and Gohan turned back to look at his father. "Gohan, all we ask is that you trust us. We're not your friends and family for nothing! We're here for you, and we love you no matter what, even if you screw up occasionally. Trust me, all of us do," he was elated when that earned a weak smile. "And don't worry about us forgiving you, Gohan. Forgiveness is not a problem because there's nothing to forgive."

AN: Okay, last line. Like I said, I don't really know how this came out because I can't judge my own writing to save my life. There is more, but it's not going up until after I'm sure how this goes over.


	33. AE11 If I Don't Reach

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AN: I am sooooooooo sorry this took so long!!! I've been going through this awful thing called Writer's Block. I had it really planned out up to Gohan's outburst, and after that, I didn't have a clue. But hey—at least my Writer's Cramp is gone!! Ah, whatever. Anyway, here's another chapter for ya, sorry it took so long. But I usually update pretty fast, so you've gotta allow me a couple longer updates. Ha! No own DBZ.

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AE Part 11—If I Don't Reach

It was raining again. A heavy rain with huge raindrops battering themselves against the window of the little Capsule house, making visibility through the glass next to nonexistent.

Gohan looked impassively out the window, though not really seeing much. He'd pulled that chair over to the window about an hour ago, about the time the rain had started, and he hadn't moved since. It was much easier to just keep to himself and not speak to anyone then to try and explain what was going on inside his head. Or his heart.

Hushed whispers drifted within reach of his sensitive Saiyan ears, and the hearing instrument stretched out and snatched up the faint sounds, devouring and processing them. Even with his superb hearing he could still only pick up bits and pieces.

"…must do something…" "…bleeding inside…" "…won't talk to anyone…" "…never said anything…" "…hurting everyone…"

A new strain of sounds also wafted to his range of hearing. The sound of two chibis talking with Yamcha, who had volunteered to try and keep the kids occupied while everyone else conversed. Gohan listened to the conversation of the younger pair with a little more interest.

"…big brother sad…" "…wrong with Gohan…" "…be okay…"

With a sigh, he finally blocked out the voices, letting his eyes unfocus. He wasn't really looking at anything anyway. He was just sitting alone, legs crossed, one arm thrown carelessly over the arm of the chair, elbow resting on the other arm, chin resting in his hand in a thoughtful pose. He had even made a conscious effort to keep any and all expressions and emotions from his face. It seemed to be working well; from the snippets of conversation he'd picked up, they didn't know what to make of him.

After the outburst with his father, he'd just clammed up, and no amount of pleading (his mother), cajoling (his father and Krillen), or threatening (Vegeta and Piccolo) could get him to say anything else. As far as Gohan was concerned, he'd already said far too much. Finally, they stopped asking and forcibly escorted him back inside, where he broke off and took up his current stance in the chair by the window, half-watching the rain hammer down.

The tapping of the rain against the roof and the darkness from the clouds overhead were strangely comforting. He'd cried; now it seemed as though the sky itself was crying as well. With the falling rain, a cloud of depression had descended on the house with a _clunk,_ and he was determined to enjoy it and wallow in self-pity for a while.

Truth be told, he felt quite sorry for himself. No one understood him, no one would ever understand him, and before this, no one had really even tried to understand him, so what was the use in trying now? The only one he could rely on was himself, and nobody else. Not his father, not his brother, not Piccolo—nobody. 

If he didn't reach out, then he wouldn't get hurt. If he stayed within himself and didn't share, then no one could find out anything to use against him. Emotions were a weakness he couldn't afford, everything except anger was just a defect that would get him eaten alive.

Piccolo had taught him that, all those years ago. Right after he'd lost his father. And he refused to say that it was when he'd lost his father for the first time, as so many others did. When Radditz had set foot onto the little island where Master Roshi lived—_that_ had been the moment that Gohan had lost his father.

It dawned on him that he'd been using a lot of Piccolo's old training lately—wilderness survival, suppressing his own emotions…those were the best lessons his former mentor had ever taught him. At least, that was how Gohan felt about it anyway.

And the rain continued to fall.

__

I'm alone, he decided morosely. _I've been alone ever since I was four years old. And I'll always be alone. Why fight it? Better just accept it. It'll be easier. _At that moment he made a solemn vow to himself. _I won't touch. I won't let anyone get close. If I push them all away…if I stay alone, then I won't get hurt again. Never again. I've been an idiot in my life, but no more. Son Gohan is through paying for everyone else's mistakes as well as my own. They won't let me die, they won't let me leave, so I'll stay. But I won't make this easy for them. Oh no. They made me suffer all these years. Now it's my turn to make them suffer. I've survived worse…loneliness won't be so bad…_

Though he had convinced himself of the promise he was making, he wasn't quite sure if he believed the last part. But it was the only way. If he isolated himself…it would just make his life a whole lot easier. And maybe someday…he'd be able to get away…

"Made any breakthroughs?"

Gohan didn't move a muscle, and he didn't trust himself to answer.

Son Goku leaned against the wall beside the window, looking down at the stoic figure in the chair. "Gohan, you can't sit there like that forever. Sooner or later you have to face it."

"Says who?" the words came out more bitterly than he had intended, but it was just too difficult to care at that point. And caring took up way too much energy.

"Don't be like this, Gohan," Goku said, almost pleadingly. "You know we just want to help you."

"If you want to help me, then leave me alone," the teenager hissed, still not moving an inch.

Goku glared angrily at his son. "You're being stubborn, Gohan. Stubborn and selfish."

"Yeah, so?"

Goku shook his head sadly and looked straight ahead, somewhere over the top of Gohan's head. "I'm sorry things went so terribly that you ended up like this."

Gohan allowed himself the tiniest of victory smirks as Goku continued. "But what you're doing isn't going to change the past. All you can do now is try for the future."

The teenager moved his head ever so slightly to look up at the man before him. "That's what I'm doing. It's just that my method of making my own future isn't what you guys wanted me to do. And that's why you're so freaked out. I'm making my own choice, and none of you can deal with that."

With a sigh, Goku apparently gave up and wandered back into the kitchen. A louder murmur of voices, then the hushed whispers resumed.

And Gohan refused to let himself care that he had just put a proverbial knife through his father's heart. It no longer mattered if what he did hurt anyone else.

Yet somewhere, deep down, he wasn't quite sure if he really believed that…

AN: *sigh* All-State auditions are in ten days, and I'm really stressed about that. Plus, I can't have pop. Hello, Mr. Caffeine-Withdrawal! ARGH! So please bear with me while I try to get this written. This was the longest I've ever been between updates. Sorry. I feel bad when I don't update. But hopefully the next one'll be up faster. Maybe, maybe not, I'm not making promises. Toodles!


	34. AE12 Old Habits Die Hard

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AN: I got this chappie out a lot faster than the last one, thank Kami. I think this takes the cake as the most twisted, angsty installment I've written yet. I've been in an inspired mood for a while now (even though I still can't get the father-son reunion right on "Faith"…grrr…). I got the _Beauty and the Beast_special edition DVD, and I've been watching it nonstop. I love _Beauty and the Beast!!!_ *Candyland starts singing "Human Again"* *ff.net readers run away screaming with their hands over their ears* *Candyland looks very sad* But enough about that, onto the story. I don't own DBZ…and I don't own _Beauty and the Beast, _but I want to!!!!

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AE Part 12—Old Habits Die Hard

The world went right past Gohan, and liked it that way; he watched impassively, refusing to let anyone in. He did not eat, he did not sleep, he did not speak. He merely watched with unseeing eyes.

Not letting himself really see anything was a task. His mother hadn't stopped crying, his father was genuinely angry, his little brother was upset, his friends were concerned, and Piccolo was disappointed. Yet Gohan refused to see. He refused to let their pain get to him.

Thus far, the only person he'd consented to speak to was Goten. It had been shortly after he'd shunned his father. For a few minutes, he had let himself open up at the pleading of his two-year-old sibling. And the only reason for that was because he was still almost absolutely certain that Goten would not betray him. But then…_they_ had come back, and he'd had to clam up again, much to his brother's dismay. Stupid fools. Once _they'd_ come back in, he'd withdrawn immediately back into himself, and _they'd_ given up. But he was starting to suspect that another attempt would soon be made.

Gohan permitted himself a tiny sigh. Why wouldn't they just quit already? He wasn't going to give them anything willingly. Truth be told, the way he felt right at that moment, it would have taken much more than wild horses to drag it out of him.

A sudden thought struck him, and for the first time in quite a while, he moved. Specifically, he sat straight up in his chair. Why hadn't he thought of that before? It was something he had been doing his absolute best to keep suppressed, but when the idea came, the urge came back full force. But he'd have to be extremely cautious; they were watching him. Not that he cared, of course.

Slowly, as so not to make any noise, he stood up and tiptoed out of the living room on a beeline for his own bedroom. It wasn't even that difficult to sneak past the kitchen door; all he'd had to do was faze out, and faze back in on the side of the door he needed to be on. From there, it had just been a simple stroll.

Once inside the supposed safety of his room, he began his search. The tiny corner of his mind that was and had been recording everything since this whole ordeal had started was wondering if anyone had noticed his disappearance from the living room, though he had yet to pay that little voice of reason any heed. He was beyond reason.

Finally, he found his prize—a tiny scrap of metal with one side sharpened to a knifelike edge. That razor edge was already stained, but it didn't matter. The blade was still plenty sharp, and that was the only requirement as far as he was concerned.

A huge grin distorted Gohan's face. It had taken every ounce of self-control he'd possessed to bury that urge to cut, but finally he could make up for that lost time.

The rain was still pouring down and the clouds were casting strange shadows on the floor. Alone, crouched on the floor of his bedroom, Gohan slashed his arm, and grinned even wider, more sadistically. It felt good. Insanely good.

Without even waiting for the blood to taper off, he made another cut, and another, and another. That rational part of his mind was panicking, setting off a red alert in his mind, but he wouldn't listen. He just couldn't stop. There wasn't any reality, just the blood. Blood…red blood…wonderful blood…

As he raised the blade to make yet another slash on his arm, a tiny sound at the doorway alerted him to someone's presence. He figured that _they_ had indeed noticed his disappearance and had sent someone looking for him. _They_ obviously didn't know what to do about him yet if _they_ thought he was done. Not a chance.

"Gohan?"

Well, _that_ was the last voice he'd expected to hear. His breath caught in his throat, and a silent prayer raced through his head. _Please no…no…_ Slowly, he turned his head…

Goten was standing in the doorway, pale-faced and wide-eyed, mouth dropped open in horror.

The stained blade fell out of fingers that had suddenly gone numb. He tried to speak, but his tongue had frozen in his head, and he couldn't say a word. Even if he had been able to talk, he couldn't think of a thing to say. His little brother had just discovered what he was doing.

For a long, tense moment, the two brothers just stared across the room at each other. Then, Goten moved. The chibi took two staggering steps backwards, then burst into tears and took off, screaming, "Brother doing bad! Brother doing bad!"

Gohan jumped to his feet and chased the two-year-old out of the room, but only made it a few steps before he heard the commotion down in the kitchen. He could hear Goten sobbing, still shrieking at the top of his lungs, and a chorus of voices muttering angrily. He didn't even try to make out what was being said. This wasn't supposed to happen. Goten wasn't supposed to know. He felt lower than ever before, lower than dogs, lower than dirt. He was officially the scum of the earth.

Instinct kicked in, and instinct said _Get away._

Knowing that he would never be able to get past them again, nor was he in any real condition to run, his cornered, desperate mind made a quite illogical decision. He dove into the bathroom and slammed the door close, throwing the lock behind him. Ridiculous against Saiyan strength and ki blasts, but he just didn't know what else to do. At least he couldn't see any of _them_.

The voices grew louder, which meant _they_ were coming. They stopped outside the door. There was some shuffling, then…

"Hey, come on kid, let us in," Piccolo's voice came from the other side of the door. "If we have to knock it down, we will."

Gohan didn't trust himself to reply. Not only was he shaking all over, with wet blood covering his arm, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to maintain any semblance of coherence if he had to speak.

"Open up, brat," another voice, Vegeta, snarled, followed by a clamor that seemed to be everyone else delivering sharp reprimands to the Saiyan Prince for his attitude.

Finally, a third voice. "Gohan, please open the door." It was his mother. Thus far, that had been the hardest one to hold against.

And yet he forced himself to remain silent, not trusting his ability to answer, trying to force down the hysteria that seemed to be rising in his throat.

"Gohan, now. Or the door comes down," his father said evenly in a voice that very clearly said 'I mean it.' He trembled even harder. This was it. He was completely cornered. And his arm continued to bleed, as if mocking him for what was happening.

It was to the point that he was shivering so hard he couldn't even stay on his feet. He fell first to his knees, then onto his side on the floor of the tiny bathroom, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his head, over his face. His eyes unfocused and he just stared straight ahead into the shadow created by the shield of his arms, still feeling the warm stickiness on his forearm.

More murmuring outside the door, this time with overtones of resolve. He wouldn't come out, so they were coming in. And over it all, Goten's crying, Goten still hiccuping that "Brother doing bad…"

For one crazy second, Gohan considered trying to form a ki blast and take himself out with it. Facing whatever death happened to throw at him would definitely be easier. But the thought quickly dismissed itself. It wouldn't work. It just wouldn't work. They'd drag Dende down to heal him for sure or something to keep him away from death's door, and then he'd be right back where he'd started. Just as his father said, he had to face it sooner or later. The problem was that later was coming a whole lot sooner than he really would have liked.

For any normal person, tearing a locked door off of its hinges and out of the wall would have been a nearly impossible feat. For Son Goku, it was as easy as breathing, a task requiring only the minimal exercise of his Saiyan strength.

There was a crashing sound as the door paid a sudden fairwell to the wall and ended up hanging by the doorknob in Goku's hand. Gohan didn't move; he couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to.

A shadow fell over him, and he closed his eyes to block it out, not wanting to look, not wanting to see. The sound of murmuring voices died away, replaced by a sensation of being watched, and a feeling of shock hanging over the tiny room and the hallway directly outside it.

Those damn tremors began running through him again, and Gohan silently cursed his own body for betraying him at his weakest moment. It had to be visible to everyone watching. He probably looked like a scared rabbit, huddled there on the floor, curled up into the tiniest ball he could manage, shaking. At least he wasn't crying anymore. If he cried again, he would definitely put that beam through himself.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, but he didn't look at who it was. He just squeezed his eyes closed and prayed that it would all go away; he didn't even have the nerve to open his mental eye and see who was standing over him, but he thought he knew.

"Gohan," sure enough, Goku's voice pierced his thoughts. "You let Goten see that?"

It was a ploy, a cruel ruse to get him to talk, and he knew it, but he just couldn't let his father say that. Anger gushed through him at the very thought, and without even meaning to, he surged to his feet, flashing up to Super Saiyan level 2; his eyes changed to the color of spring leaves, and his hair bleached to the color of sunlight. Sapphire lightning shot through the golden glow around him. The sheer force of his aura knocked everyone back. The chibis screamed.

"How dare you!" he growled, fully aware that he had completely lost control and beyond caring. His power level was skyrocketing; if it kept up, he would probably die from the power overload, and he didn't care either way. "How dare you think that of me? If I'd known that Goten was standing there, you think I would have done this?" Without thinking, he held out his bleeding arm. "You son-of-a-bitch, I told you! You don't know anything! You don't know me! Get the hell out of my life and stay there! Go back to Otherworld, with your training and whatever the fuck you're doing over there. You…" (AN: Sorry!)

Unable to choke out anymore words and out of control with rage, he pulled one arm back and landed a perfect punch on the end of Goku's chin. The Saiyan didn't even have time to react, and the blow knocked him through the door and flat onto his back in the hallway. But Gohan wasn't finished yet. He formed a nice-sized ki blast in the palm of his hand. That same sadistic grin twisted his face again; in some way, he was drawing a very sick sort of pleasure from this.

It was Goku's reaction that actually startled him. Goku had blood running down from one corner of his mouth; he was panting from pain. But his eyes were hard and focused, staring right back up at the angry being that was his son.

Somehow, that threw Gohan a little bit. Instead of fear or concern, what he was reading in his father's eyes amounted to defiance; acceptance of the challenge that was being proffered. It Gohan continued with what he was doing, that is. If he continued, then he wouldn't be facing his father; he would be facing Kakarott. It was a persona his father had only resorted to a handful of times that Gohan had seen, and only in the direst of situations. While Son Goku the Earthling was easy-going, kind, compassionate, carefree, and cheerful, Kakarott the Saiyan warrior was angry, hard-bitten, driven, and ruthless. And in most cases, completely unbeatable.

Gohan's resolve wavered the tiniest bit before the challenge of his father, and with his resolve went some of his all-too-precious self-control. He felt his eyes stinging, and he blinked quickly. _No no no…damn it, no!_ If he cried, then that blast wasn't going through his father, it was going through him and to hell with what they thought or did about it. He was NOT going to cry.

But despite his best efforts, a slow, solitary tear made its way down his face. And with that tear went his hold on himself.

Without saying another word, he moved his hand and the ki blast—at the movement, everyone winced, expecting the attack that was not to come—and posititioned it right in front of his stomach, still aiming it at his father. Then he let a smile cross his face—not the angry sneer or the perverted sadist's half-smile, but a genuine grin of the first real happiness he had felt in a long time.

He twisted his hand around. In the instant between the time he took his real aim and firing, realization dawned in his father's eyes. Realization, shock, anger, and something that appeared to be very much akin to terror.

Still smiling, Gohan fired the ki blast through his own stomach.

AN: ARGH! NOOOOO!!! I'm not done yet, though. I've got one more little trick I haven't used yet. And I like happy endings, so don't count on me letting him die and/or stay dead, kay? Hehe…the joys of being the author…I have a hunch as to what's going to happen…hehehe…but you don't know! Haha! Well, I have to go now. Good night, everyone!

PS. Really really really sorry about the language there, but nothing else seemed strong enough…bad me…bad Candyland…no biscuit…I'll try my very best not to do it again. Sorry ^-^


	35. AE13 Visions

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AN: I kinda borrowed this thought from Fred the Mutant Pickle, just because it seemed appropriate for the way this story is going. But what it says is all mine!! As is this storyline, as is not DBZ.

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PS. I did a little rewriting, and I added a couple of things to this chapter. Sorry the new one is taking so long to get out, but I just can't get it right. Plus, All-State auditions are Saturday, so I've got a ton on my mind all at once. I'm auditioning for the choir, so wish me luck!

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AE Part 13—Visions

In the instant that the blast hit him, time seemed to freeze. Gohan's eyes unfocused as visions danced in front of him…memories of a life he had once know, of a happiness that had once been his. Things he hadn't even been aware that he remembered…

He saw himself as a baby, with his parents. They were younger…and his father seemed to be asking a million questions…

…then as a child of four, visiting the strange pink house on the island with his father…then came Radditz…he relived that whole ordeal…

…then for a long time, it was just Piccolo, out training for the arrival of the Saiyans…then the Saiyans themselves…Nappa and Vegeta…

…then Namek and Frieza…the quest for the Dragonballs…

…Garlic Jr. and the Black Water Mist…Piccolo attacking him…

…Mirai Trunks…his father's heart virus…the fear…androids…

…the Cell Games…oh gods, the Cell Games…

For some reason, the Cell Games seemed to repeat a million times over in front of his eyes. More specifically, the part where Cell began self-destructing and his father had jumped forward to clean up after Gohan's own mistakes…and his father's last words to him were lost as the vision erupted in light when the scene changed to Cell—alive and well—flinging the blast at Vegeta, and Gohan taking the hit, sacrificing his left arm in the process…and then another flash as the battle of Kamehameha began, Cell throwing everything he had at Gohan's eleven-year-old self, and Gohan replying with a blast of his own, fired one-handed. Gohan's Kamehameha overpowering Cell…

Then the visions changed…no more fighting, but peace. Goten was born…gods, he remembered that…he remembered resisting getting close to anyone, but eventually having his heart stolen by a pair of huge, charcoal-black eyes and a permanent case of bedhead. And something he hadn't really realized before—the memories with Goten in them, the ones he was seeing at that moment, all were good ones.

But then he saw something else…himself. Pushing everyone away so carefully and so subtly that no one even realized he was doing so. The time he sliced his finger open, completely on accident. The first cut he purposely made, a very short time later.

Three years of relief through pain. Three years of tormenting himself for things that might or might not have been his fault. Three years of paying for everyone else's mistakes as well as his own. It was a price that Gohan had paid in his own blood, and no one had even noticed until a twist of fate had brought certain matters to the attention of his friends.

Then, a series of coincidental events that had led to his secret coming out. Goten interrupting his "relaxation", Gohan completely spacing off the fact that the evidence was right out in the open, and for some reason, he saw his mother going into his room and finding the blades. He saw her shock, he saw her anger, and he saw her fear.

All of the events of the past couple of days flashed in front of him. Running away, slashing his wrist, trying to escape the darkness, being called by Goten, yelling at the chibis, running away again, being brought back, and then…

His father had shown up. And it had all gone downhill from there. The explosion of anger, the isolation, and more cutting. And Goten showing up in the doorway to see it, followed by the scene at the bathroom door, and then…

Something passed in front of him that didn't really make any sense to him. It was the strangest thing...he didn't know what to make of it.

He saw a girl—well, more of a woman, really. She looked to be maybe eighteen or nineteen, with dark hair, a pretty smile, and wide cobalt-blue eyes in a beautiful face. He could tell that she was tough and almost undoubtedly stubborn. But he had never seen her before...yet somehow...she was familiar...but he didn't know, nor did he have time to ponder it because something else the vision of the young woman changed again. She was talking with someone, a tall young man, who was also strangely familiar. They seemed to be quite happy...but he couldn't quite place either of them.

Then the visions vanished.

They just stopped.

Nothing more.

Only the ki blast ripping through him. Pain lanced through him, to every inch of his being. But he didn't even have the energy to scream out in agony. All he could do was feel.

As the ground quickly and violently introduced itself to his back, he felt his lifeforce depleting. His eyes refocused and stared at the ceiling. Screams and crying echoed through his ears.

__

Why the hell didn't I just do this sooner? he wondered, his very thoughts wavering. _At least it's finally done. They can't stop me now. Goodbye, Earth. Goodbye, everybody. You'll all be way better off without me. And Goten…I'm sorry…_

He tried to send that last thought, but he wasn't sure if it made it. The thought trailed off as his mind plunged into darkness.

AN: Hehehe…what's gonna happen now? Is Gohan dead, or will something happen that'll make him pull through? Honestly, I'm not entirely sure (I do have a really great idea for an adorable Goten line for the next chapter though ^-^ ), but I did have another idea. Ya see, once I got to a certain point, I started wishing that I had made this take place when Gohan was in high school so I could have Videl in it…so I was thinking that everything turns out okay for now, but maybe…relapse? I dunno, just a thought. Probably not. I'm gonna have enough problems trying to figure out where to go from here…oh well. It was just a thought. And yes, this story will have a happy ending. I like angsty stories, but they hafta have a happy ending. Thanks a bundle!

EN (Editor's notes): I swear, I should just turn this story over to the reviewers because they've got better ideas than I do! Honestly. Thanks to the wonderful reviewer who suggested that Gohan see a certain someone when his life flashes before his eyes. If you can't figure out who it is, then you really should go watch the show some more. And I have been more seriously entertaining the thought of a sequel. I don't know if I'll actually do it or not, but it's an interesting idea. Who knows. Enjoy.


	36. AE14 Life or Death?

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AN: All righty then, we're moving on. I added a couple of things to the last chapter and reposted it in its edited version. Nothing major, just a couple little details. And then I put this up. It feels great to have another chappie done and ready. So here you go with Part 14 of the Alternate Ending that's ending up a lot longer then I'd originally planned. *sigh* Oh well. I'm almost to five hundred reviews! Holy poop on a stick! Sorry, I just like saying that. ^-~ Anyhoo, mesa no ownie DBZ—Mr. Toriyama does.

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AE Part 14—Life or Death?

In a flash of golden light, the blast was gone. Son Gohan collapsed, falling out of his Super Saiyan form. He ended up in a crumpled heap on the floor, unmoving.

For a few scant seconds, the hallway was as still and quiet as the grave. Then, chaos ensued. Nearly everyone began screaming, with the exceptions of Vegeta, Piccolo, and Goku; Piccolo and Vegeta were merely staring open-mouthed, completely uncertain of what to do.

Goku was still sprawled on his back on the floor, propped up on his elbows, still staring up at the spot where his older son had stood only seconds before. He looked…well, confused wouldn't even have begun to cover it, nor would angry, disappointed, or any other descriptive words known to man. Slowly, he climbed to his feet and walked over to kneel down beside the body of his son. He reached out carefully and let one gentle hand come to rest on Gohan's shoulder. The body was still warm.

And…breathing?

Still breathing?

"Guys!" Goku called frantically to the masses nearby. Everyone immediately swarmed on the still figure sprawled on the floor as Goku rolled his son over onto his back.

The teenager's eyes were closed. After a few seconds, though, they slowly opened, and went completely unreadable, along with his face. "You guys can't do anything this time. I win."

"Goku," Krillen said as he pulled something small and green out of his pocket and tossed it to Goku. "I usually keep one of those with me."

"Gohan," Goku held the tiny senzu bean out towards his son, "take this."

In response, the demi-Saiyan's eyes narrowed slightly, and he shut his mouth, setting his jaw stubbornly, speaking through clenched teeth. "No way. You're not cheating me this time."

"Cheating you?" Piccolo snarled angrily from his vantage point, beside Gohan's left shoulder. "I think a better way to phrase that would be cheating us." Though he would never really admit it, at that moment Piccolo was scared beyond all possible description. If Gohan died there because of something he should have seen and didn't…well, Piccolo wasn't quite sure what he would do.

"Yeah right," Gohan growled.

"Just do it, brat," Vegeta hissed furiously. Only someone who knew the arrogant Prince well could have possibly read any trace of concern in those four irritated words. Truth be told, Vegeta was actually somewhat frightened and no little worried. Not that he would ever let anyone know, of course. "You're being a little too dramatic, don't you think?"

Surprisingly, Gohan smiled. "Maybe." Then his smile disappeared as a fit of coughing seized him, and for several seconds he was engaged in a battle to get his breath back. A tiny trail of blood formed, running from one corner of his mouth down his chin, but he didn't seem to notice that it was there. He just looked up at everyone again, now panting for air. "Why don't...you guys just...go away...let me die...in peace? It's...over."

"No it's not!" ChiChi surged forward shrieking. She fell to her knees and grabbed Gohan's shoulders, shaking him as hard as she could. "What about everyone else? What about me? What about your brother? The planet?"

"The planet?" Gohan scoffed. "The planet will be...just find. I saved this planet...from Cell, and...when I die nobody's gonna...remember my name. That's the way...it goes. You and Goten...you'll be just fine...you guys don't...need me."

"NO!" Goten actually pushed his mother out of the way and jumped on Gohan, ignoring the fact that he was almost immediately covered in his older brother's blood. "Big brother lie! Big brother can't go! Mommy and me need you!"

Gohan smiled. "You'll be fine...squirt...take care of...mom."

The chibi looked strangely confused for a minute, then wrapped his arms around Gohan's neck and let his head rest against his brother's chest. "I love you, Gohan. I want you be happy. If you happy, I happy too. If going away make you happy, then go and be happy. I don't want you to go, but I don't want you be sad. Go if you need to and be happy, and I love you." Having said that, the Goten began to cry; the hot tears seeped through Gohan's shirt, forming a large wet spot on his chest.

Everyone stared at the two-year-old, stunned. Everyone, including Gohan.

Gohan knew exactly how much it had to have cost his little brother to say that. Goten worshiped his big brother, and everyone knew that Gohan was just as doting. And for Goten to say that he wanted Gohan to die because it would make Gohan happy was nothing short of monumental, especially when he knew how much it would kill Goten not to have his older brother around. And yet here he was, giving Gohan the freedom to make his choice without guilt.

The rest of the assembled Z senshi were startled at Goten's proclamation, especially Goku, who was still crouched beside the fallen teenager, holding the senzu out towards the teen. Despite the choppy, childish format of the speech, it was still far more eloquent then they had ever dared to expect from the two-year-old son of Son Goku. And what he had said was getting through to them.

Truth be told, it was getting through to Gohan as well. _Goten loves me that much? If I wanna die, he'll be okay with it because I'll be happy...even though it'll cause him pain. Gods above and below...can I really leave him behind if he loves me that much?_

The senzu was directly in front of him; his jaw was starting to ache from clenching his teeth so hard, just to keep that damn bean from getting anywhere near his system. He could swallow it. He could be healed right then, and he could stay with Goten. But if he did, it was going to be a million times harder to stay under the same roof with these people who undoubtedly trusted him even less at that moment than ever before. And where would he end up if he died? He could end up in hell, which is where he was certain he belonged. After all...he'd killed his own father...

But his father hadn't wanted to be brought back. Goku had chosen not to come back. And that was where the whole problem had stemmed from. For all he knew, if he died, Gohan could very well end up spending a lot more time with his father if by some strange twist of fate he was sent to wherever it was that his father was. It was all so uncertain...

He was trying to make out a pros and cons list in his mind, but it was getting harder and harder to focus his thoughts. And it was getting more and more difficult to breath...if he was going to make the choice, he had to make it fast. It was nothing short of miraculous that he'd held on this long. It was now or never, unless they tried to wish him back. Then he would have to make this decision all over again—whether or not he wanted to come back.

But if he chose not to come back, then he was just as bad as his father. He knew exactly how it felt to have someone important to him say that they didn't want to be brought back to life. And it was something he wouldn't put anyone else through for anything in the world. Which meant that even if he died now, he was almost positive that he wouldn't be able to say 'no' if they gathered the Dragonballs.

It was an awful cycle, and he couldn't shake himself out of it.

Everyone was watching him closely. As he was fading in and out of himself, some part of him seemed to open up, and he felt what they felt. He felt _their_ anger, _their_ pain, and _their_ fear. And it was just as real as his. And from Goten, he got something more than fear—he got pure terror. Terror that 'big brother' was really going to go away, even after what he'd said.

__

Go and be happy, and I love you. Goten's words echoed in his darkening mind. He was seriously fading. It was time. He looked up into the eyes of his friends and family (except for Goten, who was still crying hopelessly into his chest). In their eyes, he could quite clearly read their desperation.

Then there were the scenes that had paraded around in front of him, his whole life summed up in the space of a breath. All the things he had done, so much of it good. That meant that there had to be more good that he could do. Plus, that last vision had him beyond confused. He'd never seen that young woman before, nor did he recognize the guy she had been talking to. But the guy had looked strangely familiar...yet it was nothing he remembered from his past. To be blunt, he was curious as hell. So peculiar...

Finally, Gohan made his decision. He closed his eyes and took a few shaky breaths, willing his voice to work. Finally, he opened his eyes, looked straight up at his father, and said softly, "Dad?"

Goku looked a little surprised. "Yes?"

Gohan hesitated for a moment, then steeled himself. "Give me the senzu."

A sigh of relief went up from those gathered around him, and his father smiled—not his trademark Son Grin, but a much softer smile. And he let the senzu fall into Gohan's mouth.

The teenager was surprised at how much energy it took to actually chew the damn thing. And he was paying for how long he'd held on to consciousness by fading fast.

Apparently, someone noticed, because he felt a hand touch his shoulder and a transfer of energy from someone else to him. With this new energy, he was able to move his head and look up at his benefactor. Namely, Piccolo.

"Don't say I never gave you anything," the Namekian growled, though Gohan could read him much better than that, and sent a wordless thank-you with a smile before returning his focus towards the task at hand—chewing the stupid senzu!

All he had to do was swallow. It was then that he hesitated. And once again, it was spotted immediately by a member of the audience, as he was privately thinking of them.

"Just do it, brat," Vegeta snarled again, an echo of the same four words he'd said earlier. This time, it translated to 'Stop keeping us in suspense, swallow the damn thing, quit scaring us, and stand up so I can kick your sorry ass into next week.' Oh yes, Gohan was quite certain of the translation.

He paused again, still waivering...and finally, Gohan swallowed the senzu.

****

AN: Like I said before, I want a freakin' happy ending! So please don't chew me out for letting Gohan live, okay? Plus, I really wanted Goten to make that little speech. He's so megadorable! But do you know how hard it is to write dialogue for a little kid when you haven't been that age for fourteen years?!? I'm sure some of you do, but others might not. Well, I'm telling you—it's hard!!!

I'll get the next chapter up whenever I have time to write it. All-State choir auditions are on Saturday, and that's where my focus is right now, so please be patient with poor lil' ol' me, who's got one shot left to make it into this choir, because I'm a senior! Besides, it would be an awesome b-day gift to make All-State—my birthday is next week. Okay, I'm done babbling. Time to go to rehearsal. Ta-ta, everyone! Thanks for reading!


	37. AE15 Apologies

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AN: Nay, I do not owneth DBZ. 

Now that I got that our of the way, onto a more important announcement. Hear ye, hear ye, guess what, everybody...I MADE ALL-STATE!!!! And not just that, but my whole quartet made it! Ya see, each school can send seven quartets with a bass, a tenor, an alto, and a soprano. It's pretty unusual for the judges to just take an entire quartet unless they're really good (also known as a power quartet). Well, my quartet was a power quartet, and we were the only group from our school that got taken as a quartet. Me, Margaret, Will, and Adam, all four of us are goin' to the All-State festival together! I love my group...we discussed getting quartet T-shirts that say which quartet we're in, and then our voice part. Mine would read "I am the alto". Hehehe...that would be great...but enough about that, you guys aren't here to read about what's going on in my life, you're hear to read about what's going on in Gohan's life. 

I didn't revise this chapter at all, just for the warning, so I don't know how good it is. And just for the record, I'm drawing off the experiences of a close friend of mine for this story. I'm sorry if I offended anyone (and I know I did, because they said so in a review).

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AE Part 15—Apologies

"...nobody understood me at all...I didn't have anyone to talk to..."

Several equally amazing things were becoming evident to Gohan as he looked around the room where everyone had camped out, so to speak, while he finally told them everything. There were people everywhere, or so it seemed. He was pondering those remarkable revelations while he talked.

"...I hated you, Dad...I hated you for not coming back, and I hated you for leaving us alone..."

The first astonishing thing had been how cool everyone had been. When the senzu had healed his self-inflicted injury, the only person who had seen fit to fuss over him was his mother, and no one had stopped her, though they hadn't followed suit. Everyone else had just pulled him to his feet, brushed him off, and sent him down to the living room for a "conference."

"...I couldn't sleep...nightmares...and it was always the same thing...the games, over and over again in my head..."

Secondly, his father hadn't been angry over being pushed, punched a few times, challenged, yelled at, and everything else that Gohan had done in anger. Truth be told, Goku almost seemed relieved—as he put it, at least Gohan had gotten it off his chest and out of his system, and perhaps something could be done now to make everything right.

"...last year, on the anniversary of the Cell Games, it was really bad...that's why I didn't want to train for a week afterwards...I went nuts, it was totally out of control...Goten was acting and looking more and more like Dad every day...I was bleeding really bad for a while..."

Thirdly, he realized that nearly dying worked up one hell of an appetite as well as wearing one out. He was starving (but luckily, his mother had been quite willing to remedy _that_ situation), and even with the help of the senzu, he was so exhausted in every respect that he half-expected himself to just fall forward onto his nose at any second. It hadn't happened yet, but he wouldn't feel safe until he was able to crawl into bed, pull the blanket over his head, and sleep for a week.

"...Goten's so much like Dad...it's like I'm being haunted all the time...he's always there...I hated having to see Dad every time I looked at my baby brother..."

Lastly, he discovered that his little brother had one hell of a grip. The minute Gohan had gotten on his feet, a very small chibi-type person had latched onto him, and refused to let go, even for a second. The older brother strongly suspected that Goten was still afraid that big brother was going to try leave him, no matter what he'd said earlier. Little did the child know that there wasn't much chance of that happening again. Even now, the two-year-old was sitting quite comfortably in his lap, clinging to his shirt with tiny fists, spurning any attempts to get him to release the teenager.

"...and that's pretty much it," Gohan concluded, not daring to take his eyes off that nice little stain on the carpet. The one that looked kind of like Piccolo's head...he figured that it was safer to look at that spot on the floor then at the actual Piccolo. The stain couldn't chew him out. He wished that Goten hadn't insisted on sitting on his lap while he tried to explain everything his friends and family. It was something that he just didn't want his younger brother to hear.

"Gohan sad?" Goten said. "Gohan said because of me? Big brother hate me?"

Startled, Gohan's gaze dropped to look into the chibi's eager face. Goten was looking up at him, wide-eyed, and desperately eager to be told that he was wrong, that his beloved big brother wasn't sad because of him, that good ol' Gohan didn't hate him.

"No! I don't hate you! Goten, you're my little brother, and you're one of the most important people in my life. I love you," Gohan squeezed the child. "And I wasn't sad because of you, kiddo. Some bad stuff happened to me, and that's why I was sad. It had nothing to do with you."

Goten's sad eyes burned into Gohan's. "Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay!" Goten grinned. If big brother promised, then it had to be true because his big brother didn't break promises.

"Goten, why don't you and Trunks go play outside?" Bulma suggested casually, shooting a glance at the lavender mane jumping up and down next to her. Trunks didn't understand what was going (though, quite frankly, Goten didn't either) and therefore, he was incredibly bored. He wanted to go play!

Finally, the adults in the room managed to pry Goten off of his older brother and sent the two chibis outside, where they headed off for parts unknown, leaving Gohan alone to deal with his worried friends and family.

"So you just blame yourself every time something happens to one of us, even if it has nothing to do with you? Even if there was nothing you could have done?" Krillen asked incredulously.

Gohan just nodded mutely. "Pretty much. It always feels like I should have been able to do something. Like when you died on Namek, Krillen. Maybe if I'd gotten Frieza with the Masenko while he was still in third form, you and Vegeta wouldn't have had to die, and Piccolo wouldn't have had to take that beam through the chest."

"Key word being 'maybe'," Vegeta entered the conversation for the first time. For once, there was no trace of arrogance or condescension in his tone. "Everything's a big 'maybe'."

"For once, I actually agree with Vegeta," Piccolo added. "Life's full of 'maybe's' and 'what-ifs'. Don't focus on them so much. Focus on making the best out of what happens."

"I think that there need to be some apologies," Goku spoke then. As Gohan opened his mouth to reply, he was startled into silence when his father continued. "And the first one should be from me to you. I'm sorry I didn't see what was happening to you, Gohan, and I'm sorry that I didn't make a better effort to be more of a father to you."

"And I'm sorry that you feel like everything that goes wrong is your fault, or if we've made you feel like it is," Krillen added.

Around the room, there were murmurs of assent, and in a short amount of time, everyone had apologized to Gohan, which was yet another thing he hadn't expected. Now everyone was looking at him questioningly, and he knew what he had to say.

"I'm sorry, too," he said softly, looking down. He still couldn't quite bring himself to look them in the eye. "You guys don't deserve what you get from me. I screwed up. I...I should have told someone what my problem was, and I didn't." His eyes started to burn again, and he forced himself to keep steady. "Vegeta, you were right. I am selfish."

The Saiyan Prince looked startled.

Piccolo quirked a brow. "You're not selfish, Gohan. You just need to find a better way of dealing with things then bleeding it out. Like, maybe, telling someone when something's bothering you instead of beating yourself up over it until it becomes an obssession for you."

Gohan didn't reply, but looked up, and smiled ever so slightly.

AN: Next chappie up as soon as I can get it written. Now that Gohan seems to have forgiven everyone, and vice versa, what will happen when Goku's time is up and he has to go back to Otherworld? Hmmm...I wonder. Oh well, we'll find out, now won't we? Thanks!


	38. AE16 Goodbyes

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AN: All right, I'm back! I know, I've been slowing down with getting this posted, but the voices are telling me to end this and focus on my latest project, the first four chapters of which are up. Plus, I had yet another audition today, this time for an honor band. I made it, second chair in my section. My life is one big juggling act, and I wouldn't have it any other way. So let's move on. No tengo DBZ, y yo no tengo la ropa.

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AE Part 16—Goodbyes

*It's good to hear you laugh again,* Piccolo thought with a faint smile.

The thought was directed towards the teenager sitting in the middle of the room. Well, he was attempting to sit, anyway. But it's difficult to sit whilst being attack (or so it seemed) by a small army of people. Okay, it was only two very energetic chibis and one very cheerful adult. Son Gohan was engaged in a fierce wrestling match with his brother, his brother's best friend, and his father. As Goten jumped up and latched onto Gohan's neck, the teenager fell over, and something strange happened. Gohan burst out laughing. It was that laughter that had prompted the Namekian to send the thought.

*It feels good to really laugh again,* came the somewhat-sadder reply. *Instead of pretending.*

*Huh. You should try laughing more often,* Piccolo retorted. It was so wonderful to be able to just talk to his old student again, sending jibes back and forth. *Who knows? It might grow on you?*

*Hmm...* a short pause, then, *Hey...do you think Goten's trying to strangle me or what? Man, the kid's got a grip!*

The Namekian cracked a smile, while Gohan pushed himself into a sitting position and pried the two-year-old from around his neck. With some effort, he then managed to redirect the energy and focus of both chibis towards the elder Son. For the moment, Goku had his hands quite full.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, watching the children attack Goku. Though Gohan didn't know it, for the most part they shared Piccolo's sentiments—hearing Gohan laugh again was nothing less than music.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gohan noticed Vegeta leaning against the wall, watching the spectacle on the floor passively. The proud Saiyan's eyebrow was twitching _ever_ so slightly.

__

He wants to get at Dad, but he doesn't dare, Gohan realized. _Not now. He knows what Bulma will do to him if he screws anything up now, I bet. Hmm...I wonder how much time Dad has left..._

As if in reply, a puff of smoke suddenly appeared near the ceiling, and there appeared a short old woman sitting on what appeared to be a crystal ball. "Goku, it's time."

The room became very still and very silent. Vegeta stood up straight, looking as though he'd been struck. The two chibis looked around blankly, confused as to why their wrestling match had been interrupted. And who was the funny lady?

Goku climbed to his feet, an unusually grim look on his normally-cheerful face. "Okay. Can I say goodbye first?"

The woman nodded. "Make it quick."

ChiChi darted forward and threw her arms around her husband's neck, burying her face in his shirt. "Goku, do you have to go?" she asked, her voice breaking, tears running from her eyes down her face and leaving streaks on her cheeks.

"Yes, I have to," he said fondly, putting his hands on her shoulders in a reassuring touch.

Goten chose that moment to run forward and wrap his tiny arms as far around his father's leg as they would go. "Daddy go?"

"Yes, Goten," Goku knelt down to the child's level. "Daddy go."

"Why?" the chibi asked, his chin quivering. "Like you!"

"I like you too, but this is something I have to do," the Saiyan picked up his younger son and made his way to the door. Everyone followed him outside to say their goodbyes; Gohan came as well, though he trailed behind the rest a bit.

The goodbyes were brief and often tear-filled. Vegeta chose to remain by the house, leaning against the wall, half-concealed in the shadows. Piccolo did the same. Eighteen showed no emotion whatsoever towards what was transpiring.

Gohan hung back as well, though not as far as Piccolo or Vegeta. He wasn't sure how this goodbye was going to go, and putting it off as long as possible seemed like a brilliant plan. So he watched impassively as the entire gang said goodbye to his father.

It was Goten's goodbye that got almost everyone; Gohan glanced back to see that even Piccolo looked a little sadded at the sight. Goten cried into his father's shirt, demanding to know why "Daddy go," and if "Daddy come back." They were answers that Goku just couldn't give.

And finally, Goku placed the chibi safely in his mother's arms and made his way over to Gohan, who had lowered his gaze to study his father's shoes.

"Gohan?" Goku said softly. "Take care of your mother for me, all right?"

The teenager nodded mutely.

Goku took one more step forward and put his hands on his son's shoulders. "You're going to be fine, Gohan. I know it. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, but you shouldn't have let it get to this point. Hang in there. Things will work out."

Slowly, Gohan lifted his eyes and met his father's gaze. And he nodded, ever so slightly.

"Goodbye, son," Goku said softly. With that, he released Gohan's shoulders, pivoted and strolled back over to where Baba was waiting on her crystal ball.

"Goodbye, Dad," Gohan answered just as softly, not sure if his words were heard.

Goku and Baba lifted off into the air, and everyone waved and hollered goodbyes at their friend until both had faded from sight. Left behind on the ground was a group of much-saddened people. Slowly, the gang began to filter back into the house. Eventually, there were only three people left outside.

"Gohan?" Goten pulled on his brother's hand. "Where Daddy go? He come back?"

"I don't know, squirt," Gohan replied truthfully, letting his hand rest on the child's head. His fingers laced through the soft hair that was so much like their father's. "But I hope so."

The child was apparently satisfied by this response, and smiled—that Son grin, their father's smile—before scampering back towards the house in search of excitement and most likely trouble. Gohan was left alone with the one other person still standing in the front yard. This person now moved forward silently to stand beside the teenager, where both looked up towards the spot where Son Goku had last been visible before disappearing.

Finally, it was Gohan who broke the silence. "Are you leaving, Piccolo?"

"Yeah, kid," the Namekian answered, shooting a glance down at his former student. The teenager's eyes were distant and unreadable. "You gonna be okay?"

Slowly, Gohan turned his head and lifted his eyes to meet Piccolo's. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

__

He's been saying that a lot lately, Piccolo thought, but didn't press the issue. Instead, he made a small sound of agreement and took to the air; he stopped about ten feet up, where he turned and called down to Gohan. "Come find me later, Gohan. I wanna talk to you." Then he pivoted and was gone in an eyeblink, shooting across the darkened sky in a flash of light.

Piccolo was gone, leaving Gohan alone in front of his house, trying to make some sense of the thoughts and emotions that were busy chasing each other around his mind, beating themselves against the inside of his skull. He wasn't sure what to think, do, or even _be_ next.

Overhead, the sky was almost pitch-black, both from the late hour and the thick clouds that had been ashen all day, but had also darkened to the color of soot. It was almost a reflection of the shadow that was tightening its fist around his soul. The sounds around him vanished—the rustling of animals in the trees nearby, crickets chirping to each other across the grass, the laughter and voices from inside the little house. All faded to nothingness. He was the only person left on Earth, or so it felt.

The first drop of rain hit his forehead, followed by many more, falling on his face, hair, and clothes. He reflected again on how his surroundings were almost the embodiment of his feelings.

Though the desperation was no longer there, eating away at his mind and heart, the confusion was, as strong as ever. And Son Gohan had never before felt so alone.

AN: Goku's gone back to Otherworld, and Gohan all by himself! There's one more chapter after this, and I have the tiniest little idea for a really short epilogue that I don't know if I'm going to use or not. Chances are that I will, just because I can. And another little idea for a one-shot is running around in my mind. So anyway, thank you for reading, and I'll try to get the next chapter up fast!


	39. AE17 Going Home

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AN: Well, this is the last _official _chapter. I am going to have a short epiloge, and then it's over. No more, that's it, see ya later, bye bye. So here we go. DBZ ain't mine.

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AE Part 17—Going Home

__

I can't believe I'm actually doing this, Gohan thought unhappily. His mother had basically kept him under house-arrest since his father's departure the night before. The day had been spent studying, keeping Goten occupied and answering the child's questions (the chibi's curiosity as to his father had been tripled since he'd actually met the man), and trying to convince his mother that he wasn't going to try and kill himself again. It was nearing dusk, and he'd finally managed to get away from his mother to go see what Piccolo wanted.

He swooped down. He was almost there, and anxiety was starting to knot his stomach. But all too soon, he didn't have time to think about it anymore because the waterfall came into view, and hovering next to it was Piccolo in his standard posture of meditation.

Gathering his nerve, the teenager flew over to levitate beside his old sensei. He assumed a meditation pose not unlike Piccolo's and waited for his presence to be acknowledged, as he knew it would be when Piccolo was ready.

Sure enough, after a very short moment, the Namekian opened one eye and glared lazily at his old friend. "What took you so long?"

"Mom wouldn't let me leave," Gohan replied with a shrug. "So...you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes, I did," Piccolo opened his other eye then and turned his head to speak to Gohan face-to-face. "I wanted to know how you're doing, for starters."

"Me?" Gohan actually stuttered. "Me, I'm fine. Never better. Nope, doing just great, everything's fine..." he glanced at Piccolo's face, and suppressed a smile at the expression he saw there. "...you're not buying this, are you?"

"How about no."

"I really don't know," Gohan opted for the honest response. "I'm so confused. I was so happy to see Dad again, but...gods, I just wanted to kill him! He made me so mad, just marching back in like he knew everything about me. But then it was so hard to say goodbye...and Goten won't stop asking me questions about our father, and Mom seems to think that if she takes her eye off me for more than two seconds, I'll try to blow myself up or something. She doesn't trust me anymore, Piccolo."

"Does she have a reason to?" Piccolo countered, knowing that the truth would be best in this case.

"Not really, and I know that," Gohan sighed, rocking back a little bit. "I really blew it this time, huh? I mean, everything that's happened in the past few days has been because I ran out on my mother when she found out something I didn't want her to know."

"But if ChiChi hadn't found out, then it would probably still be going on," the Namekian was quick to point out. "And who knows what would have happened then? We might not have known until after you'd killed yourself or something."

Gohan shrugged. "I guess it was bound to happen eventually. But I really screwed up everything for everyone this time. Nobody could even be that happy about Dad coming back because they all knew he was here because of my problem and the fact that I'm so screwed up..." his voice trailed off, leaving a very heavy silence hanging between them.

Piccolo broke it. "So tell me truthfully, kid. Would you ever do something like that again?"

To his surprise, Gohan actually smiled—a real smile, nothing forced about it. "I don't think so, Mr. Piccolo. Not that stupid anymore, sir."

The stoic Namekian permitted himself to have the tiniest of grins at the use of the honorifics. Up until recently, Gohan hadn't called him that for a long time, and even recently, the few uses of the respectful nickname had been to purposely see how much he could hurt his old friend. Piccolo made an attempt to smother his smile and growled, "Aren't you a little old for that?"

"Well, if I'm too old, then why do you still call me kid?" Gohan retorted.

"Touché," Piccolo muttered. "So if something's wrong, what are you going to do instead of slicing yourself up?"

Gohan rolled his eyes with the air of a child who's heard a lesson far more times than he wants to. "I'm going to talk to someone and tell someone what my problem is.

"And what are you not going to do?"

"Bottle it up," the teenager sighed in mock-annoyance and then, more subdued, "or cut."

"Good. Don't you dare forget it, or I swear by all that is holy I'll take it out of your hide, kid," Piccolo growled as menacingly as he could manage.

Gohan grinned. "Yes, sir."

They sat in silence for a while. Then it was Gohan who spoke first. "Hey, Piccolo, there's one thing that's still kinda bothering me."

"Yeah?"

"Well...I told you guys what I saw when I...almost died," now that it was all over and done with, talking about it made him feel quite embarassed. "You know, the whole life-flashing-before-my-eyes thing. Well, there was something I saw in those visions that just doesn't make any sense."

"What was that?"

"It was...it was a girl. I've never seen her before. It was so weird. I don't have a clue who she is, but it felt like I know her. She was older than me, I know. Maybe eighteen or nineteen or so. Black hair, blue eyes...really pretty," Gohan felt himself blush when he thought about it. "And she was talking to a guy. He was maybe the same age, really tall. He had black hair too." It amazed Gohan how easily he was able to recall all this information, things he had seen for not even half an eyeblink. Yet it was so clear in his mind, like he was looking at a photograph.

"And you have no idea who either of them were?" Piccolo queried, looking both intrigued and perplexed at what Gohan was describing.

Gohan shook his head. "Nope. I don't know who they were, but they were both really really familiar. It felt like I should know who they were, though."

"Well, don't let it bother you," Piccolo advised, not sure what to make of it himself. "You'll probably figure it out someday."

"Yeah...I bet you're right," Gohan nodded his agreement. "Well, I'd better head home before Mom has a cow. She wasn't going to let me leave at all, but Goten convinced her. Gods, I love that kid."

"I know. Take care, kid. Be smart."

"Will do." Gohan unfolded his legs out from under him and took to the air.

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Unbelievable, he thought, feeling the wind rush through his hair. _It feels like the entire world's turned upside down...but it's only been three days since Mom walked into my room and found out my secret. In three days, I went from a bearable life to a living hell of an existance, and now I'm on the way back. I ran away twice, was brought back twice, attempted suicide twice, my father came back, I nearly killed him, and everything came out into the open. And through the whole thing, all I could think about was cutting and making sure that everyone else hurt as much as I did. Well, congratulations, Gohan. You accomplished that quite nicely._

He twisted in the air and flew lower to the ground, under some low tree branches, then swooped up towards the sky.

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And I know Piccolo's right. I shouldn't think about whoever those people I saw were. I don't even know why it bothers me so much. Oh well. I'd better hurry. Mom's gonna freak out if I'm not home soon. And Goten's gonna want his bedtime story.

The clouds parted to let him pass as he shot above them, sending little puffs of pastel-dyed fluff all over in his wake. It was nearing nightfall.

A small smile pulled at his face, and he allowed it to rest comfortably on his face. _Goten...gods, kiddo, I owe you more than I think you'll ever know. You saved my life, little brother. And you probably won't even remember it when you get older. I wonder if I'll ever get up the nerve to tell you what really happened over these past few days. Maybe. Someday, when you're old enough to handle it. And who knows when that'll be? In the meantime, I think I'd better get home before Mom panics and you get upset because your big brother isn't there to tell you a story._

The thought of his little brother cheered him immensely. He couldn't wait to get back to his house.

Rolling over so that his face was up, he looked at the sky. The sun was sinking behind the horizon, and the sky was dyed in a rainbow of bright and pastel colors. Mother Nature had to have used nearly all of the shades of red, orange, pink, and yellow on her colossal pallet to create such a breathtaking sunset. The last rays of warmth fell on his face, and his smile grew wider as he dropped back down beneath the thin, colorful layer of clouds.

He glanced back over his shoulder in the direction he had just come from. _Thanks, Piccolo. It might not be all right now, but it will be._

With a sigh that was partially happy and partially sad, Son Gohan turned his face away from the sunset and towards home.

AN: Like I said, an nice little epilogue after this (just to tie up one loose end), and then it's finished. I'll have it done shortly because it's going to be really short, sweet, concise, and to the point. See ya!


	40. AE18 Epilogue

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Disclaimer: Nope, don't own DBZ. After all these chapters, I'd think you guys would have figured that out by now! Geez, what's wrong with you people?!?

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AN: As I said, this is really really short. Just needed to tie up one more loose end to finish out my story. That's why this is here. And with this chapter, I close my tale. Read on.

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AE Part 18—Epilogue

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Did he have to mention that I got perfect scores on my entrance exams? Gohan wondered in exasperation as he plopped down in the chair. _Geez, so much for blending in._

Longily, he thought of his house in the mountains...the forest...being at home playing with seven-year-old Goten. The mutual adoration between the brothers would have melted even the hardest hearts.

The bubbly blonde girl next to him giggled. "Hi, I'm Erasa! Gohan, right?"

"Umm, yeah," he felt himself blush, and rubbed the back of his head in the classic Son gesture of embarrassment or nervousness.

"You know Videl, right?" the girl, Erasa, gestured towards the person sitting next to her.

"Uh, can't say that I do," Gohan replied truthfully, feeling put on the spot.

"You don't know Hercule Satan's daughter?" Erasa cried in disbelief. But she recovered quickly and began talking about how wonderful the great Hercule was. Gohan only half-listened, and leaned forward to look at the girl on the other side of Erasa.

Long, black hair in pigtails framed a slender face. Her eyes were a piercing azure-blue, huge in her face. Those eyes were sending him a questioning glare, loaded with suspicion.

The hair was different, but she looked familiar...somehow...somewhere...

Then it clicked.

It was the same feeling he'd had not too long ago when he'd looked in the mirror and thought that the face looking back at him was strangely familiar. And he'd realized why then, too.

Finally it made sense. Just like Piccolo had said it would. At last, he had all the answers.

He smiled and nodded towards her. "It's nice to meet you...Videl."

With that, Gohan turned his attention back towards the teacher.

AN: And that's the end. I brought Videl into the vision, and I didn't want to leave it hanging, so I just kinda wrote this out to finish the story off. And at last, this twisted tale is completed. No more, I repeat, NO MORE. If I try to write a lengthy sequel or anything, chances are that it'll probably wreck the original, which is something I really don't want to do. This story is ended, finished, kaput, fin, there is no more.

I did, however, end up writing a very short little follow-up. It's posted as the fourth chapter of "Confessions" under the title "That's What Friends Are For." To sum it up, Videl finds out. Just wanted to let everyone know, you can read it if you want or don't. Not my call.

Thank you to everyone who hung in there until the end, I love you, and thank you to the wonderful reviewers. If it wasn't for you guys, chances are that I never would have gotten all the way through this. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you very much. Goodbye!


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